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REBECCA    TAYLOR    HATCH 

1818-1904 


I 


Of  this    book  one  hundred  and  fifty 

copies  have  been  printed  for 

private  distribution 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

1818-1904 


PERSONAL 
REMINISCENCES 

AND 
MEMORIALS 


PRIVATELY    PRINTED 

NEW    YORK 

MCMV 


COPYRIGHT,  1905.  BY 

ARTHUR  M.  HATCH 


"Her  children  arise  up  and  call  her  blessed" 


20123' 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY  NOTE          ...  xi 

REMINISCENCES           ....  i 

PRESSNOTICES,  LETTERS  AND  MINUTES  53 

TESTIMONIALS            ....  65 

FUNERAL  SERVICE  AND  ADDRESS           .  81 

MEMORIAL  ADDRESS            .          .          .  107 


LIST  OF  PLATES 

MRS.  WALTER  T.  HATCH,  1879  Frontispiece 

From  a  miniature  by  Mildred  Jordan 

FACING  PAGE 

REV.  DR.  NATHANIEL  W.  TAYLOR  12 

From  a  portrait  by  George  A.  Baker 

MRS.  WALTER  T.  HATCH,  1866  16 

From  a  portrait  by  Rosalie  Palmie 

BIRTHPLACE  OF  REBECCA  TAYLOR  35 

New  Haven,  Conn. 

Miss  REBECCA  TAYLOR,  1836  42 

From  a  miniature  by  Miss  Strobel 

MRS.  WALTER  T.  HATCH,  1879  81 

From  a  photograph 

"ADORING  ANGELS"  106 

From  the  Walter  Tilden  and  Rebecca 
Taylor  Hatch  Memorial  Window 
(lower  half),  Church  of  the  Pilgrims. 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTE 

MRS.  WALTER  T.  HATCH,  the  author 
of  the  following  reminiscences,  has 
been  for  many  years  an  inspiring  presence  among 
us.  We  recall  her  sincerity  and  sympathy  as  a 
friend,  her  quick  interest  in  all  loyal  and  beau- 
tiful service.  We  recall,  too,  her  pleasing  remi- 
niscences of  a  period  unique  and  representative, 
and  of  which  she  stood  as  one  of  the  last  noble 
exponents. 

In  her  desk  has  been  found  a  closely  written 
note-book,  bearing  the  date  1886.  In  it  she 
goes  far  back,  giving  a  graphic  picture  of  that 
old  New  Haven  life,  and  of  those  master  minds 
that  have  done  so  much  towards  moulding  the 
intellectual  thought  of  our  own  day.  Then, 
recalling  her  own  early  life  and  friendships,  she 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTE 

touches  on  many  subjects  of  literary  and  historic 
interest. 

From  these  goodly  memories,   preserved  by 
her  clever  pen,  we  make  the  following  extracts : 


REMINISCENCES 

MY  parents  came  of  a  fine  old  lineage, 
conspicuous  for  their  intellect,  pub- 
lic spirit,  genius  for  friendship,  sim- 
plicity, and  modesty  of  living.  My  great-grand- 
father, Rev.  Nathanael  Taylor,  was  the  second 
minister  in  New  Milford,  Conn.  He  had  been 
chaplain  in  the  French  and  Indian  war.  When 
the  Revolutionary  war  broke  out,  being  too  old 
to  go,  he  gave  a  year's  salary  to  the  good  cause. 
In  regard  to  this,  I  quote  from  "  Sprague's  An- 
nals of  the  American  Pulpit"  : 

"  Rev.  Nathanael  Taylor,  class  of  1745  (Yale 
College),  was  a  zealous  advocate  of  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution.  One  of  the  ways  in  which  he 
evinced  this  was  by  remitting  to  his  people, 
during  the  contest,  an  entire  year's  salary.  This 
fact  the  Parish  Records  show,  under  his  hand, 
bearing  date  April,  1779." 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

He  died  in  1800,  at  the  age  of  eighty.  He 
left  three  sons,  Nathaniel,  William,  and  Augus- 
tine, the  last,  the  General  Augustine  Taylor  who 
served  in  the  war  of  1812.  In  Johnston's  ad- 
mirable history  of  "  Yale  and  her  Honor  Roll 
in  the  American  Revolution,"  he  introduces 
General  Augustine  Taylor  as  follows:  "Augus- 
tine Taylor  joined  the  Connecticut  Continental 
Line  as  Second  Lieutenant  or  Ensign  of  the 
Seventh  Regiment,  his  commission  dated  Jan- 
uary i,  1777.  The  Regiment  joined  Washing- 
ton's army  in  Pennsylvania,  taking  part  on  Oc- 
tober 4th,  in  the  battle  of  Germantown.  Doubt- 
less Lieutenant  Taylor  was  there,  as  he  was  at 
Valley  Forge  during  the  following  winter — 
1777—1778.  He  was  also  present  at  the  battle 
of  Monmouth,  June  28th,  1778  ;  here  he  suf- 
fered some  permanent  injury  to  his  eyesight. 
On  June  2oth,  1779,  he  received  promotion  to 
a  first  lieutenancy.  During  the  following  win- 
ter the  regiment  encamped  on  Monmouth 
Heights,  and  thereafter  in  the  Highlands.  Lieu- 
tenant Taylor  remained  with  it  until  his  resig- 
nation, June  25th,  1781.  Returning  to  New 
Milford,  he  became  an  influential  resident.  In 
1812  he  was  appointed  Major-General  of  State 
Militia,  with  the  command  of  the  Posts  at  New 
Haven  and  New  London.  He  is  described  as 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

a  martial  and  '  elegant-looking  man.'  The  Gen- 
eral was  the  uncle  of  Rev.  Dr.  Nathaniel  Tay- 
lor, the  New  Haven  theologian." 

My  father  was  named  for  his  grandfather. 
The  following  extract  from  a  letter  written  by 
Judge  Sherman  Boardman  gives  a  pleasant 
glimpse  of  his  childhood  : 

"  He  was  a  remarkably  fine  and  fair-looking 
boy.  His  appearance  was  aided  by  the  very 
neat  and  handsome  attire  in  which  his  parents, 
especially  his  mother,  who  idolized  him,  always 
kept  him  dressed.  His  manners  were  good  and 
his  conduct  free  from  reproach.  He  was,  I 
believe,  little,  if  at  all,  addicted  to  any  of  the 
mischievous  tricks  which  most  boys  are  prone 
to  indulge  and  take  pride  in.  At  the  common 
schools  he  was  said  to  be  always  at  the  head  of 
the  classes  in  which  he  was  successively  placed, 
and  he  gave  his  instructors  no  trouble.  At  an 
early  age  he  was  sent  to  the  school,  then  of  high 
repute,  kept  by  Mr.  Backus — afterward  Dr. 
Backus — at  Bethlehem  ;  here  he  continued  for 
several  years." 

He  was  about  fourteen  years  of  age  when 
he  entered  Yale  College ;  until  then  he  had 
liked  to  sit  on  his  mother's  lap  and  be  called 
"  Natty."  After  entering  college  he  wrote  to 
his  grandfather  and  signed  his  name  William  N. 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

^Taylor.  This  brought  such  a  reprimand  from 
the  old  gentleman  that  he  always  afterwards 
signed  his  name  as  he  had  been  baptized — 
Nathaniel  William. 

Twice  he  was  forced  to  leave  college  on  ac- 
count of  rheumatism  and  weak  eyes,  and  he 
finally  resolved  that  he  would  never  return  to 
Yale,  to  be  set  back  a  year.  But  his  grand- 
father knew  well  the  promise  that  was  in  the 
lad,  and  so  arranged  that  he  should  twice  return. 

During  his  Junior  or  Senior  year  he  was 
"  under  months  of  depression,"  as  it  was  then 
termed,  but  after  this  deep  conviction  he  became 
a  decided  Christian.  The  depth  of  these  con- 
victions doubtless  enabled  him,  when  later  he 
became  a  preacher,  to  present  with  greater 
power  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin  and  the 
fulness  and  freeness  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ. 
The  first  ray  of  hope  which  came  to  him  in  his 
distress  was  hearing  Dr.  Dwight,  in  one  of  his 
prayers  at  college,  repeat  the  text,  "A  bruised 
reed  shall  he  not  break,  the  smoking  flax  shall 
he  not  quench." 

It  was  at  about  this  time  that  a  friend  said 
to  him  :  "  Now,  Nat,  you  would  better  study 
theology  with  Dr.  Dwight  and  come  back  to 
New  Haven  to  live ;  we  will  build  you  a  new 
church  and  the  steeple  shall  reach  the  heavens." 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

The  present  Centre  Church  was  later  built  for 
my  father.  The  steeple  is  the  highest  in  New 
Haven,  and  many  a  soul  he  led  heavenward 
from  its  pulpit  from  1812-1822. 

My  great-grandfather  Hine  lived  in  the  vil- 
lage street  of  New  Milford  below  the  Taylors ; 
the  Town  Hall  now  stands  upon  the  site  of  his 
home.  My  mother  was  named  Rebecca  for  his 
wife  ;  she  passed  much  time  at  her  grandfather's 
home.  He  said  to  her  one  day  :  "  Becky,  get 
up  to  the  top  drawer  in  that  cupboard  and  you 
will  find  a  box  which  contains  your  dear  grand- 
mother's jewelry."  She  did  so,  and  he  gave  it 
all  to  her — a  string  of  gold  beads,  a  gold  watch, 
earrings,  and  rings  of  gold. 

When  a  little  girl,  my  mother  was  sent  to 
New  Haven  to  school,  and  boarded  in  the  fam- 
ily of  Parson  Hubbard,  the  Rector  of  Trinity 
Church.  At  Miss  Hall's  school,  then  consid- 
ered the  best  in  Connecticut,  she  found  many 
congenial  young  friends,  and  later,  when  the 
young  minister,  N.  W.  Taylor,  and  Rebecca 
Maria  Hine  were  settled  at  the  Centre  Church, 
these  friendships  ripened  into  blessings  that  made 
their  life  in  New  Haven  lovely  and  valuable  for 
nearly  fifty  years.  Among  these  friends  was 
Susan  Dagget,  daughter  of  Judge  David  Dag- 
get  ;  she  married  the  son  of  Dr.  Dwight. 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

Then  there  were  Maria  and  Caroline  Lef- 
fingwell ;  the  latter  became  the  wife  of  Mr. 
Street,  who  founded  the  Art  School,  and  gave 
the  money  for  the  Art  building  at  Yale. 

Also  Henrietta  Edwards,  the  great-grand- 
daughter of  President  Edwards,  the  great  New 
England  divine ;  she  became  the  wife  of  Eli 
Whitney.  And  Louise  Shipman,  who  married 
the  Rev.  Edward  Payson,  of  Portland,  Maine. 

My  mother's  most  intimate  friends,  however, 
were  the  daughters  of  Noah  Webster.  Julia, 
the  elder,  became  the  wife  of  Professor  C.  A. 
Goodrich,  of  New  Haven  ;  they  lived  for  fifty 
years  on  one  corner  of  Temple  and  Wall  Streets, 
while  my  parents  lived  on  the  other.  Emily, 
the  younger,  was  the  dearest  of  all.  I  have  sixty 
letters  from  Emily  to  Rebecca,  embracing  a  pe- 
riod from  youth  to  old  age,  full  of  vivid  pictures 
of  that  time,  sprightly,  intellectual,  religious, 
worthy  to  be  called  letters. 

Referring  to  a  letter  brought  her  by  my 
father,  then  a  junior  in  the  college,  she  writes  : 
"  I  have  my  dear  Rebecca's  letter  ;  hearing  a 
knock,  I  opened  the  door,  and  it  was  handed 
me  by  Adonis  himself."  This  refers  to  my 
father's  personal  beauty,  which  was  very  great. 

Old  Dr.  Storrs,  of  Braintree,  once  told  me 
that  he  entered  Yale  College  with  my  father, 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

and  that  he  never  could  forget  the  impression 
that  his  beauty  made  upon  him  ;  it  was  more 
than  he  could  describe. 

Harriet  Webster  married  Mr.  Cobb,  and 
later  became  a  beautiful  young  widow ;  after- 
wards she  married  again,  this  time  Professor 
Fowler  of  Amherst  College.  She  was  the  mother 
of  Mrs.  Emily  Ellsworth  Ford,  of  Brooklyn. 

As  sons  and  daughters  grew  up  in  both  fam- 
ilies, visits  were  exchanged,  and  the  friendships 
have  been  continued  for  three  generations. 

My  mother  being  an  only  daughter,  her 
father  was  very  particular  in  all  things  relating 
to  her  appearance  and  manners.  Her  saddle- 
horse  was  never  ridden  by  anyone  but  herself; 
her  clothes  and  shoes  were  usually  purchased  in 
New  York.  I  have  one  chair  which  stood  in 
the  house  ;  the  back  of  it  is  very  straight.  Since 
it  came  into  my  possession  I  have  never  won- 
dered at  the  erect  carriage  of  my  mother. 

She  was  visiting  at  Dr.  Webster's  when  my 
father  graduated  in  1807.  On  the  evening  of 
that  day  there  was  a  large  party  at  Mrs.  Lef- 
fingwell's  house.  This,  with  the  Whitney  and 
Hillhouse  mansions,  were  all  homes,  where,  in 
my  mother's  childhood  and  youth,  she  was  a 
frequent  visitor.  President  Dwight  was  present 
at  this  party,  kindly  speaking  to  both ;  he  con- 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

gratulated  my  father  on  the  success  of  the  ora- 
tion which  he  had  that  day  delivered  at  his 
graduation. 

I  said  to  my  mother,  when  she  was  talking 
to  me  of  those  days  of  her  youth  :  "  I  suppose 
you  were  engaged  at  that  time  ? "  "  Oh,  yes," 
she  replied,  "  we  were  always  engaged." 

The  following  verse  is  taken  from  a  poem 
found  among  my  mother's  papers.  The  poem 
was  probably  one  of  the  little  love-letters  sent 
by  Nat  to  Becky  during  his  Sophomore  year : 

"  There  is  something  in  her  air 

That  greatly  hits  my  fancy ; 
'Tis  not  her  face,  her  shape,  her  hair, 
But  'tis  the  whole  of  Nancy." 

I  also  copy  one  from  a  set  of  verses  descrip- 
tive of  the  class  of  1807  : 

"  Nat  Taylor,  fair  beyond  compare, 

The  pride  of  all  Yale  College  O — 
He  wins  each  heart  and  makes  it  smart, 
And  glories  in  his  conquest  O  !  " 

My  father,  when  pursuing  his  theological 
studies,  was  an  inmate  of  Dr.  Dwight's  family. 
He  greatly  revered  and  loved  that  eminent  man, 
then  the  President  of  Yale  College  ;  he  felt  that 
no  other  ever  exerted  so  great  an  influence  over 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

him ;  even  his  very  presence  was  an  inspira- 
tion. 

After  finishing  his  course  he  went  to  New 
Milford,  and  was  married  there  on  October  15, 
1 8 10.  The  wedding  took  place  in  my  mother's 
home ;  it  had,  if  I  remember,  a  wide  hall  run- 
ning through  the  centre,  and  a  ball-room  on  the 
third  floor. 

Then  my  father  received  an  invitation  to 
preach  as  a  candidate  in  the  first  church,  known 
as  the  Centre  Church,  New  Haven.  This  Centre 
Church  had  a  reputation  as  high  as  any  in  New 
England.  He  modestly  declined.  No  wonder 
that  the  young  minister  declined  the  call,  for  at 
this  time — 1812 — Dr.  Noah  Webster,  the 
American  lexicographer,  Seth  P.  Staples  of  the 
legal  profession,  Eli  Whitney,  Mr.  Leffingwell, 
Judge  White,  and  many  other  superior  men 
were  parishioners  there.  Then  Dr.  Dwight 
wrote  to  him  :  "  Young  man,  you  know  not 
what  you  do."  Dr.  Dwight's  word  was  law  ; 
he  went.  In  talking  to  me  during  his  last  ill- 
ness of  those  early  days,  he  said,  "  I  came,  I 
stayed,  and  here  I  am  !  " 

My  father  occasionally  supplied  pulpits  near 
New  Haven.  One  Sunday,  on  returning  from 
East  Haven,  where  he  had  been  preaching,  he 
said :  "  I  have  had  a  great  compliment  to-day. 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

I  lingered  after  the  service,  and  as  I  approached 
the  church-yard  gate  two  young  men  were  just 
going  out.  They  did  not  see  me,  and  I  heard 
one  say  to  the  other,  *  That  was  a  good  ser- 
mon.' *  Yes,'  replied  the  other,  '  as  good  as 
Old  Hundred!'" 

He  was,  as  a  preacher,  so  fervent  that  he 
won  all  hearts.  There  was  one  sermon  which 
he  loved  to  preach  when  there  was  any  unusual 
religious  interest.  It  was  called  "  The  Rock  Ser- 
mon," and  this  was  how  he  happened  to  write  it: 

It  was  at  a  time  of  special  religious  interest ; 
extra  services  were  being  held  during  the  week, 
and  the  young  people  of  the  congregation  were 
asked  to  come  on  a  Saturday  afternoon  for  per- 
sonal conversation.  Some  young  ladies  whom 
my  father  had  hoped  would  be  there,  had,  in- 
stead, arranged  with  some  of  the  students  for  a 
picnic  to  East  Rock.  When  the  absence  of 
these  young  women  was  discovered,  and  the 
reason  reported,  my  father  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed, and  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  their  rock  is 
not  as  our  rock."  He  went  to  his  study,  wrote 
a  sermon  on  this  text,  and  preached  it  the  next 
morning.  This  sermon  was  greatly  blessed,  for 
it  not  only  became  the  instrument  of  bringing 
all  these  young  people  into  the  fold,  but  also 
many  others. 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

His  persuasive  powers  were  very  strong. 
Once  when  making  a  defense  in  an  Ecclesiasti- 
cal council  at  Litchfield,  and  having  won  his 
case — Dr.  Beecher  being  on  the  opposite  side — 
Judge  Roger  Minot  Sherman  said  to  my  father, 
"  Dr.  Taylor,  you  have  mistaken  your  calling ; 
you  ought  to  have  been  a  lawyer." 

In  1822  he  received  a  call  to  the  Theolog- 
ical chair  in  Yale  College,  just  established  by  a 
son  of  Dr.  Dwight.  There  was  much  opposi- 
tion expressed  to  his  leaving  the  Centre  Church. 
Many  meetings  were  held,  and  the  matter  was 
much  discussed.  Finally  Deacon  Nathan  Whiting 
rose,  and,  renouncing  his  own  opposition,  called 
on  his  brethren  to  do  the  same,  saying, "  The 
Lord  is  in  it ;  we  must  let  our  young  minister 

go." 

The  new  Professor  of  Theology  at  Yale 
made  a  great  impression  and  the  "  New  Divin- 
ity" great  progress.  Revivals  had  always  fol- 
lowed his  preaching,  and  now  they  followed  his 
teachings.  In  regard  to  his  work,  we  quote 
from  Professor  Fisher's  historical  address,  at  the 
semi-centennial  anniversary  of  the  establishment 
of  the  Divinity  School  of  Yale  University : 

"  Unquestionably  the  central  figure  in  the 
Seminary  was  Dr.  Taylor.  This  was  not  due 
merely  to  his  intellectual  powers,  or  to  his  mag- 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

netic  quality  as  a  teacher,  but  it  was  owing  in 
some  degree  to  the  fact  that  the  taste  of  the  time 
turned  strongly  in  the  direction  of  metaphysical 
theology.  I  have  not  room  for  the  attempt  to 
characterize  at  length  this  body  of  friends  and 
associates.  Dr.  Taylor  blended  the  attributes 
of  a  philosopher  and  an  orator ;  of  a  philosopher 
subtle,  logical  and  strong  to  deal  with  the  most 
intricate  inquiries;  of  an  orator  whose  concep- 
tions were  vivid  as  well  as  clear,  and  whose  ear- 
nest and  impressive  delivery  enabled  him  to  en- 
chain the  attention  and  sway  the  feelings  of  his 
hearers.  When  he  arose  in  any  assembly, 

" '  his  look 
Drew  audience  and  attention  still  as  night.' 

"Many  can  look  back  in  memory  to  his 
lecture-room  and  see  him  in  his  chair  discours- 
ing upon  the  high  themes  of  moral  government ; 
lifting  his  dark  lustrous  eyes  as  he  closed  a  sen- 
tence of  peculiar  point  or  weight ;  then  proceed- 
ing in  that  deep-toned,  modulated  voice,  and 
rising  at  times  to  a  strain  of  powerful  and  stir- 
ring eloquence.  You  cannot  know  him  from 
his  printed  works.  There  was  vastly  more  in 
the  man  than  can  be  transferred  to  paper.  Every- 
thing seemed  different  when  it  was  warm  from 
his  lips.  His  extemporaneous  flashes  often  sur- 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

passed  his  most  elaborate  discussions.  He  had 
a  royal  nature ;  a  weight  of  personality  more 
easily  felt  than  analyzed;  an  intellectual  fascin- 
ation that  cast  a  spell  over  all  within  the  circle 
of  his  influence.  His  heart  was  the  fit  associate 
of  such  a  mind.  He  had  a  soldier's  courage, 
that  rose  as  dangers  thickened ;  but  he  was  as 
gentle  as  a  child.  His  brief  series  of  lectures 
in  Homiletics  were  considered  at  the  time  and 
for  the  time  to  be  unsurpassed  in  merit." 

My  father  loved  his  students,  but  he  was  not 
blind  to  their  faults  or  to  their  stupidity.  I  have 
heard  him  tell  the  following  story  of  himself: 
A  very  stupid  young  man  entered  the  Seminary 
— so  stupid  that  he  could  not  see  the  point  of 
an  argument.  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  say  to  him 
that  perhaps  he  had  mistaken  his  calling,  but 
neither  hints  nor  advice  would  deter  him  from 
being  a  minister.  So  he  went  on  and  was  li- 
censed, more  because  of  his  goodness  than  be- 
cause of  his  ability  or  attainments  in  theology. 
I  once  sent  him  to  a  neighboring  town  to  sup- 
ply the  pulpit.  One  day  some  weeks  later,  meet- 
ing one  of  the  Deacons  of  the  church,  I  in- 
quired, "Well,  how  do  you  like  Mr.  Babit?" 
"  Oh,  Doctor,"  was  the  reply,  "some  of  us  think 
he  is  equal  to  the  Doctor  himself."  Then, 
laughing  heartily,  my  father  added,  "  This  was 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

the  first  and  last  time  that  I  ever  ventured  such 
advice." 

My  father  was  a  man  of  intense  convictions 
and  of  intense  purposes,  and  the  power  of  prop- 
agating them.  These  qualities,  combined  with 
a  nature  both  sympathetic  and  courageous,  en- 
abled him  to  exert  a  wide  influence  in  the  the- 
ological world  and  in  the  community  where  he 
lived  for  nearly  fifty  years.  Professor  Silliman 
said  to  me  after  his  death  that  no  death  had  oc- 
curred since  that  of  Dr.  Dwight  which  had 
been  so  deeply  felt  in  all  New  England. 

It  is  said  that  conversation  is  among  the  lost 
arts,  but  I  think  it  had  not  been  lost,  or  else  had 
been  revived,  as  I  recall  the  society  and  conver- 
sation in  the  old  home  in  Temple  Street.  When 
very  young  it  was  my  delight  to  sit  near  my 
father,  and  hear  him  talk  with  visitors  and  theo- 
logical students.  The  moral  government  of  God 
was  always  a  favorite  theme  ;  one  of  his  remarks 
was  that  "  The  next  best  thing  which  God  did 
after  He  made  the  world  was  to  govern  it."  I 
laid  this  up  in  my  mind  and  often  pondered  over 
it.  His  lectures  in  two  volumes  on  this  subject 
have  been  published,  as  well  as  two  volumes  of 
essays  and  sermons.  He  used  to  like  to  convince 
the  intellect,  as  well  as  to  touch  the  heart.  He 
told  me  in  his  last  illness  that  twice  he  had  de- 

14 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

livered  these  lectures  to  the  Academic  students 
by  their  request,  and  that  both  times  their  de- 
livery was  followed  by  powerful  revivals  in  the 
college. 

My  father  sometimes  went  to  New  York  to 
attend  and  address  anniversary  meetings,  but  he 
was  most  fond  of  his  home,  wife  and  children, 
and  always  dreaded  leaving  them.  I  have  often 
heard  my  mother  say  that  during  the  early  years 
of  the  theological  controversy,  in  which  my 
father  was  engaged,  he  was  so  engrossed  that  she 
often  had  to  be  satisfied  with  only  a  smile  from 
the  opposite  end  of  the  table  at  meals. 

Had  he  lived  for  two  years  longer,  the  golden 
wedding  would  probably  have  been  celebrated, 
but  he  died  on  March  10,  1858.  The  funeral 
services  were  held  in  Centre  Church,  which  was 
draped  in  black.  They  were  attended  by  the 
college  students,  both  Academical  and  Theolog- 
ical, and  by  a  large  number  of  friends,  many 
from  neighboring  towns  and  from  New  York. 
Dr.  Bacon,  President  Woolsey  and  Professor 
Goodrich  conducted  the  services,  and  later  funeral 
sermons  were  preached  at  the  North  Church  and 
at  the  College  Chapel. 

The  family  have  placed  to  his  memory  a 
bronze  and  marble  tablet  in  Centre  Church,  and 
a  memorial  window  in  the  College  chapel.  The 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

simple  epitaph  on  his  monument  is  as  follows  : 
"  O  how  love  I  Thy  law." 

His  death  changed  the  whole  face  of  the 
world  to  me,  his  record  of  honor  and  sweetness 
was  an  ennobling  consolation.  My  mother  sur- 
vived him  for  ten  years.  Her  deafness  was  a 
great  trial  to  a  sensitive,  cultivated  woman ;  some- 
times regretting  that  she  could  not  hear  some 
special  thing,  my  father  would  say,  "  Ah,  my 
dear,  you  did  not  lose  much,  and  you  seldom  do 
lose  one-half  as  much  as  you  think  you  do. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  nonsense  which  you  es- 
cape." 

My  mother  died  in  1868,  while  we  were  in 
Paris  with  the  families  Packer  and  Bellamy,  and 
with  Alice  Silliman.  When  asked  by  Professor 
Porter  what  I  thought  would  be  a  suitable  epitaph 
on  her  tablet  on  my  father's  monument,  the  pic- 
ture which  came  to  my  mind  of  her  in  her  ten 
years  of  lonely  widowhood,  suggested  the  text, 
"  Thou  Lord  hath  holpen  me  and  comforted 
me."  It  was  accepted  by  the  family  as  a  proper 
expression  of  the  faith,  confidence,  and  resigna- 
tion which  had  characterized  her  life. 

On  one  of  my  last  visits  to  my  mother  in 
1867,  she  gave  me  some  things  which  she  had 
cherished.  One  was  a  large  piece  of  embroidery 
which  she  had  worked  on  satin  in  the  year  1 808. 

16 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

It  represents  a  young  female,  standing  in  mel- 
ancholy attitude  by  a  harp,  "  Malvina  "  being 
the  name  on  the  frame.  I  have  since  discov- 
ered her  to  be  the  Malvina  of  Ossian.  She  also 
gave  me  the  dress  of  light  blue  silk  which  she 
had  worn  on  the  evening  of  the  party  at  Mr.  Lef- 
fingwell's,  after  the  Commencement  day  1807, 
when  my  father  had  graduated.  A  quaint  little 
dress,  short-waisted,  and  scanty,  with  a  train. 
Also  her  wedding  dress  of  white  satin,  made  in 
the  same  style.  The  low  neck  and  short  sleeves 
of  both  had  been  trimmed  with  lace,  and  had 
been  robbed  of  their  lace  trimmings.  These  had 
been  very  likely  appropriated  by  one  of  the  four 
daughters.  It  did  not  then,  as  now,  take  twenty 
yards  of  stuff  for  a  dress.  The  little  white  kid 
shoes  and  silk  stockings  were  there  also.  When 
I  saw  these  articles  I  exclaimed,  "  Oh  mamma ! 
why  have  you  never  given  or  even  shown  me 
these  things  before  ? "  She  replied, "  You  would 
all  laugh  at  them,  they  are  so  quaint  and  old- 
fashioned.  And  I  am  sure  you  will  laugh,  when 
I  tell  you  that  the  Sunday  after  I  was  married, 
as  was  then  the  fashion,  I  went  to  church  and 
wore  my  wedding  dress,  with  a  pretty  light  silk 
shawl,  and  a  cottage  straw  bonnet,  trimmed  with 
broad  white  satin  ribbon."  Then,  waiting  a  mo- 
ment, she  added  :  "  And  your  father  preached  and 

17 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

I  couldn't  tell  you  how  handsome  he  looked." 
Among  the  other  things  which  she  then  gave  me, 
was  a  small,  square  blue  silk  shawl,  given  her  by 
Mrs.  Trumbull,  wife  of  Governor  Trumbull,  and 
a  pretty  embroidered  shawl  given  her  by  Madame 
Dwight.  This  had  been  embroidered  by  Mrs. 
Eli  Whitney.  The  brocaded  vest  in  the  box  was 
part  of  a  dress  belonging  to  Mrs.  William  Tay- 
lor, wife  of  Colonel  William  Taylor,  the  "  Aunt 
Nabby  "  of  New  Milford.  I  have  also  two  table- 
spoons marked  A.  H.  (Abel  Hine),  which  my 
mother  gave  me,  saying,  "  These  spoons  belonged 
to  my  grandfather,  and  are  at  least  a  hundred  and 
twenty  years  old."  And  this,  as  I  have  said,  was 
in  the  year  1867.  I  have  two  cups  and  a  wine 
glass  which  belonged  to  my  great-grandfather, 
Rev.  Nathanael  Taylor,  also  another  most  val- 
uable relic,  a  powder  horn  bearing  this  inscrip- 
tion : 

"  Nathanael  Taylor,  his  horn. 
Chaplain  at  Crown  Point,  1762." 

Also  his  tall  standing  clock.  He  had  been 
a  member  of  the  Corporation  of  Yale  College 
for  twenty-five  years,  and  my  father  remembered 
his  starting  off  for  New  Haven  on  his  black 
mare.  I  have  also  one  of  his  books,  "  The  Re- 
ligion of  Nature,"  by  Mr.  Wollaston,  bearing  the 

if 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

date  1738.  I  have  also  a  pair  of  silver  decanter 
stands,  an  oval  mirror,  and  a  table  with  leaves, 
which  belonged  to  my  grandfather,  Nathaniel 
Taylor,  and  a  portrait  of  his  wife.  I  have  a  set 
of  spode,  belonging  to  General  Augustine  Tay- 
lor. This  china  is  both  rare  and  valuable,  the 
decorations  being  on  each  piece. 

There  are  three  portraits  of  my  father,  one 
taken  by  Earle,  a  contemporary  of  Copley,  and 
representing  him  as  a  boy  of  ten  or  twelve  years. 
Another  representing  him  when  he  was  forty 
years  of  age.  This  was  by  Jocelyn  of  New 
Haven.  The  third  was  by  George  A.  Baker  of 
New  Yolk.  It  was  painted  when  he  was  sixty- 
seven  years  old,  and  it  is  now  in  my  possession. 
I  have  also  a  miniature  on  ivory,  painted  by  Sam- 
uel F.  B.  Morse,  and  presented  to  my  mother 
about  1807.  The  Morse  family  have  been  for 
three  generations  the  well  beloved  friends  of  the 
Taylors.  There  is  also  a  medallion,  profile  view, 
by  Miss  Tyler  of  Amherst.  This,  also,  is  ex- 
cellent. 

The  portrait  bust  in  marble,  by  Ives  of  Rome, 
is  perfect  as  a  likeness.  It  was  ordered  by  the 
Theological  alumni  for  Yale  College.  Ives,  the 
sculptor,  was  a  native  of  New  Haven.  When  on 
a  visit  to  his  early  home,  he  modeled  the  head, 
took  it  to  Rome  and  there  cut  it.  The  vessel 

19 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

in  which  it  was  sent  over  was  lost,  and  a  second 
was  ordered  the  following  year  by  the  alumni. 
When  in  Rome,  in  1871,  I  ordered,  with  my 
husband's  permission,  a  duplicate. 

I  have  also  a  lovely  portrait  of  my  mother, 
who,  though  not  beautiful,  was  possessed  of  a 
fine,  well-proportioned  form.  She  was  a  little 
above  the  medium  height,  with  small  hands  and 
feet,  bright  dark  eyes  and  hair,  superlatively  beau- 
tiful teeth,  a  sweet  expression,  graceful,  refined 
manners,  a  cultivated  mind,  and  a  cautious  tongue. 
It  was  indeed  "  the  whole  of  Nancy  "  which  in 
childhood  had  won  and  kept  the  heart  of  Na- 
thaniel. The  young  and  the  old  trusted  her, 
and  to  the  day  of  her  death  she  was  loved  and 
revered  by  all  in  the  community  where  she  had 
lived  from  early  youth. 

Recalling  my  parents'  pictures  brings  to  my 
mind  other  old  family  portraits  which  have  been 
for  over  a  hundred  years  in  the  old  homes  of  the 
Taylors  and  Boardmans  at  New  Milford.  When 
eight  or  ten  years  old  I  went  with  my  sister  to 
make  a  visit  there.  It  was  in  the  latter  part  of 
winter,  and  my  father  took  us  in  a  sleigh.  We 
stayed  in  the  house  of  my  uncle  John  Taylor, 
the  house  where  my  father  was  born.  Near  this 
stood  another  spacious  mansion,  the  home  of  my 
great-grandfather,  Rev.  Nathanael  Taylor,  the 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

second  minister  in  New  Milford.  His  wife, 
Tamar  Boardman,  was  the  daughter  of  the  first 
minister.  She  belonged  to  the  Sherman  family. 
The  three  brothers  now  living  are  General  Sher- 
man, Senator  Sherman  and  Judge  Charles  Sher- 

•j  o 

man,  father  of  Mrs.  Don  Cameron  of  Pennsyl- 
vania. In  the  study  in  this  house  is  still  to  be 
seen,  between  the  front  windows,  a  painted  coat 
of  arms.  A  copy  of  this  in  copper  I  have,  which 
belonged  to  the  Rev.  Nathanael  Taylor. 

When  I  made  this  visit  my  father's  uncle, 
Col.  William  Taylor,  and  his  wife,  Abigail  Starr, 
of  Danbury,  always  called  Aunt  Nabby,  lived 
here.  His  portrait  and  hers,  in  powdered  hair 
and  quaint  costume,  were  hanging  in  the  parlor, 
and  in  an  opposite  room  the  portraits  of  my  great- 
grandparents,  parson  and  Mrs.  Taylor.  These 
four  portraits  have  been  removed  to  a  more  mod- 
ern dwelling,  which  has  since  been  built.  It  is 
occupied  by  a  descendant,  Dr.  Charles  Taylor. 

In  the  homes  of  my  uncle,  Judge  David 
Sherman  Boardman,  and  in  that  of  Hon.  Elijah 
Boardman,  were  other  most  imposing  and  inter- 
esting portraits. 

My  father  had  a  cousin  whom  I  never  saw 
— would  that  I  might  once  have  laid  my  eyes 
upon  her.  In  our  youth,  and  talking  as  girls  will, 
over  the  beauty  of  this  or  that  one,  he  would 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

say  :  "  Beautiful,  oh,  if  you  could  have  seen  my 
cousin  Polly  Northrup !  Such  beauty  never  ex- 
isted before  or  since!"  We  believed  it  to  have 
been  superhuman  !  Her  dark  brown  eyes  and 
hair,  her  beautiful  moulding,  her  brilliant  color- 
ing and  pearly  teeth  have  been  my  ideal  ever 
since. 

My  eldest  sister,  Mrs.  Porter,  and  my  cousin, 
Charlotte  Taylor,  Mrs.  Huntington,  were  both 
settled  in  New  Milford,  one  as  the  wife  of  the 
Congregational,  the  other  of  the  Episcopal  min- 
ister. I  think  that  New  Milford,  Conn.,  must 
always  be  a  place  of  interest  to  my  children  and 
grandchildren,  for  it  was  the  birthplace  of  so 
many  of  their  ancestors.  The  old  homes  are  still 
there,  the  old  portraits  and  many  distant  relatives, 
and  the  cemetery  where  repose  the  remains  of 
both  my  father's  and  my  mother's  ancestors. 

Neither  will  New  Haven  have  less  of  inter- 
est for  them,  having  been  for  fifty  years  the  home 
of  their  distinguished  grandfather,  the  birthplace 
of  their  mother,  and  as  they  have  better  known 
it,  the  home  of  their  aunt  and  uncle,  President 
and  Mrs.  Porter. 

Miss  Betsy  Whittlesey  lived  opposite  us  in 
Temple  Street.  About  1 840  the  house  was  sold 
to  the  widow  of  Elbridge  Gerry,  formerly  Vice- 
President  of  the  United  States.  There  were  four 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

daughters,  only  one  of  whom  is  now  living.  The 
old  family  portraits  by  Gilbert  Stuart  were  most 
interesting,  as  well  as  other  family  relics.  Among 
them  a  collection  of  autograph  letters  of  men 
distinguished  in  our  colonial  history.  I  remem- 
ber one  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  describing  his 
awkwardness  when  he  attempted  to  leave  the 
presence  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  France,  the 
difficulty  he  had  in  backing  out.  He  was  our 
first  minister  to  France  after  the  Revolutionary 
war. 

Dr.  Eli  Ives  was  at  this  time  professor  in  the 
medical  school,  and  the  "  Beloved  Physician  " 
of  both  the  rich  and  poor  in  New  Haven  and  its 
vicinity.  His  son  and  grandson  are  now  leading 
physicians  in  New  Haven. 

On  the  left  of  my  father's  house,  when  I  was 
a  child,  lived  an  aged  couple  who  had  spent  their 
earlier  lives  in  Boston,  but  who  had  come,  in 
their  old  age,  to  reside  in  New  Haven.  They 
were  the  Rev.  Dr.  Jedediah  Morse  and  his  wife. 
He,  the  father  of  American  geography,  was  a 
tall,  noble  and  venerable  man.  Mrs.  Morse,  with 
tidy  black  gown,  white  kerchief  crossed  over 
her  bosom,  and  high  mob  cap,  was  the  picture 
of  a  matron  of  '76.  She  had  more  than  once 
called  me  in  for  a  nice  bit  from  her  table.  With 
Susan  and  Charlie  I  was  always  allowed  to  run 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

through  the  garden  and  studio  building.  This 
building  was  occupied  by  the  son,  Samuel  Fin- 
ley  Morse,  who  was  then  an  artist,  and  who  af- 
terwards became  so  celebrated.  Sidney  E.  Morse, 
editor  of  the  New  York  Observer,  was  another 
son ;  although  he  lived  in  New  York,  he  was  a 
frequent  visitor,  and  there  were  no  frolics  like 
those  which  he  inspired ;  once  he  built  us  a 
church  with  a  quantity  of  wood  which  had  been 
prepared  for  winter  use — a  pulpit,  pews,  a  tower 
and  a  bell.  My  little  brother  Nat  mounted  the 
pulpit,  the  preaching  I  do  not  recall.  I  think 
that  it  was  the  only  pulpit  that  he  ever  filled, 
for  he  became  a  medical  man.  Professor  Morse's 
wife  died  at  the  birth  of  her  third  child.  Pro- 
fessor Benjamin  Silliman,  Sr.,  wrote  a  most  re- 
markable epitaph,  which  is  on  her  tombstone  in 
New  Haven. 

Professor  Morse  later  removed  to  New  York, 
to  pursue  his  electrical  experiments,  and  after- 
wards to  Washington.  I  went  in  1840,  with 
my  dear  friend  Susan,  his  eldest  child,  to  her 
father's  rooms  in  New  York.  He  took  our  da- 
guerreotypes. In  1842,  on  the  twenty-fourth 
of  May,  he  sent  from  the  rooms  of  the  Supreme 
Court  at  Washington,  to  Baltimore,  the  first  tel- 
egraphic message.  It  was  sent  to  Miss  Annie 
Ellsworth,  daughter  of  Hon.  Henry  Ellsworth 

24 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

of  Washington,  and  it  read  as  follows :  "  What 
hath  God  wrought !  "  Five  days  later  the  in- 
telligence of  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Polk  was 
wired  from  Baltimore  to  Washington.  Thus 
began  the  use  of  that  invention  which  now 
thrills  the  world  as  with  a  single  pulse. 

Susan  Morse  married  a  merchant  of  Porto 
Rico,  with  large  estates  and  numerous  slaves ; 
when  slavery  was  no  more,  his  riches  decreased. 
On  returning  to  the  States  in  1885,  h*s  w^e 
died  on  the  passage — a  most  sad  event  to  her 
only  brother  and  to  all  who  loved  her. 

The  Morse  house  in  New  Haven  was  sold 
to  Mr.  Arthur  Tappan  of  New  York,  one  of  the 
first  American  abolitionists. 

The  miniature,  to  which  I  have  already  re- 
ferred, painted  by  Mr.  Morse,  of  my  father, 
when  they  were  in  college,  came  into  my  pos- 
session on  my  mother's  death. 

On  Mr.  Morse's  eightieth  birthday  a  large 
reception  was  given  him.  He  was  then  living 
with  his  second  wife  and  family  in  Twenty- 
second  Street,  New  York.  I  went  with  my  hus- 
band and  took  the  miniature  with  me.  It  is  set 
in  the  form  of  a  locket.  When  an  opportunity 
offered  I  handed  it  to  Mr.  Morse  without  a 
word.  In  a  moment  he  recognized  it,  and,  turn- 
ing to  Mr.  Bryant,  the  poet,  he  said  in  a  gentle, 

>5 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

pathetic  tone,  "Bryant,  I  painted  that  sixty 
years  ago." 

Stephen  Van  Rensselaer,  the  eldest  son  of 
the  Patroon  of  Albany,  was  a  classmate  and 
friend  of  my  father.  The  Patroon  encouraged 
this  intimacy,  but  it  waned  somewhat  after 
my  father's  decided  religious  turn  in  Senior 
year. 

My  grandfather  had  agreed  that  his  son  should 
go  with  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer  to  Montreal  to 
study  French,  after  their  graduation,  and  that  the 
following  spring  both  young  men  should  take  a 
trip  to  Europe.  They  were  both  introduced  into 
the  best  English  society  in  Montreal ;  but  the 
gay  life  became  so  irksome  to  my  father,  that 
after  a  few  months  he  returned  to  New  Haven 
and  entered  Dr.  Dwight's  family. 

The  Patroon  sent  his  youngest  son  to  Yale, 
and  as  long  as  he  lived  he  was  my  father's  friend. 
My  parents  visited  at  the  Manor  House  in  Al- 
bany, and  the  Patroon  and  his  daughter  visited 
our  home.  Courtland  Van  Rensselaer  gradu- 
ated at  Yale  and  studied  divinity  there.  I  was  a 
little  girl  at  the  time.  He  would  often  seat  me 
on  his  knee  and  talk  to  me,  and  for  three  suc- 
cessive years  he  sent  me  a  poem  on  the  Fourth 
of  July.  He  also  gave  me  a  little  English  Testa- 
ment, which  I  still  own.  His  daughter  was 

26 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

at  Farmington  with  my  daughter,  and  his  son 
crossed  the  ocean  with  us  in  1872. 

While  pursuing  his  theological  studies  with 
Dr.  D wight,  there  commenced  between  Dr. 
Lyman  Beecher  and  my  father  that  ardent  and 
lasting  friendship  which  proved  such  an  impor- 
tant factor  in  the  lives  of  both  clergymen.  And 
this  was  the  beginning  :  Dr.  Dwight's  eyes  were 
very  weak,  and  going  into  the  study  one  after- 
noon to  write  for  him,  my  father  found  waiting 
there  a  rather  small,  plain-looking  man  ;  he  sup- 
posed that  he  was  a  farmer  from  one  of  the 
neighboring  towns,  and  that  he  had  come  to  ar- 
range with  the  doctor  for  his  winter  supply  of 
potatoes ;  he  offered  him  a  chair  and  began  his 
work.  Presently  Dr.  Dwight  appeared,  greeted 
the  man  with  great  cordiality,  and  introduced 
him  as  Mr.  Beecher  of  East  Hampton,  Long 
Island.  The  famous  duel  between  Aaron  Burr 
and  Alexander  Hamilton  had  inspired  a  Mr. 
Beecher  to  write  a  most  pronounced  tract  against 
duelling.  It  had  attracted  much  attention,  and 
my  father  concluded  that  this  must  be  the  author 
of  it,  and  he  became  much  interested  in  the  con- 
versation. 

Many  years  after  Dr.  Taylor  reminded  Dr. 
Beecher  of  this  interview.  "  Ah,  yes,"  he  re- 
plied, "  we  took  hold  of  hands  in  Dr.  Dwight's 

27 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

study,  and  we  never  let  go  ! "  An  acquaintance 
so  auspiciously  begun  soon  ripened  into  a  warm 
friendship. 

Mr.  Beecher  removed  from  East  Hampton, 
Long  Island,  to  Litchfield,  Conn.,  in  1812,  and 
my  father  becoming  pastor  of  the  Centre  Church, 
New  Haven,  visits  and  pulpits  were  frequently 
exchanged,  and  long  were  the  talks  over  the 
"  New  Theology "  which  a  few  years  later 
shook  New  England  to  its  centre  ;  it  was  char- 
acterized as  "  Taylorism." 

In  1863  Mrs.  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe  visited 
us ;  together  we  read  over  many  letters  relating 
to  that  early  struggle,  when  it  required  great 
moral  courage  to  present  in  the  pulpit  any  mod- 
ification of  old  Calvinism. 

I  do  not  remember  Mr.  Beecher's  visits  while 
he  lived  at  Litchfield,  but  I  have  heard  my 
mother  describe  one  or  two  of  them.  Living 
away  from  the  sea  he  had  a  great  craving  for 
sea  food,  so  that  when  he  appeared  the  town  was 
searched  for  clams,  lobsters,  and  other  fish.  This 
was  all  very  well,  but  once  her  patience  was  ex- 
hausted. My  father  was  out  of  town  at  the 
time  ;  Father  Stebbins  and  his  daughter  Harriet, 
who  was  afterwards  Mrs.  R.  S.  Storrs  of  Brain- 
tree,  had  driven  over  from  West  Haven  to  take 
tea.  All  three  were  seated  in  the  front  parlor, 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

when  in  walked  Dr.  Beecher  holding  on  a  string 
a  large  shad.  He  had  driven  over  from  Litch- 
field,  seen  the  shad  in  Chapel  Street  market,  and 
had  bought  it  for  his  supper.  When  my  mother 
saw  the  fish  she  inwardly  resolved  to  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  it  until  the  next  morning,  then 
it  should  be  cooked  for  the  preacher's  breakfast, 
for  the  tea  was  already  arranged,  and  the  one 
woman  in  the  kitchen  would  be  disconcerted  by 
any  rearrangement.  The  children  were  happily 
disposed  of  in  the  nursery  with  Mrs.  Simons,  our 
dear  old  faithful  nurse,  so  that  my  mother  had 
been  anticipating  an  uninterrupted  hour  with 
her  dear  friends.  So,  as  Mr.  Beecher  walked 
through  the  hall  she  said  to  him,  "  You  shall 
have  that  fish  for  your  breakfast." 

He  made  no  reply,  but  passed  on  and  out  to 
the  woodshed.  He  cleaned  the  fish,  washed  the 
fish,  cooked  the  fish,  and  ate  the  fish  for  supper, 
and  probably  with  as  great  a  relish  as  one  might 
have  who  had  not  for  a  year  seen  a  fresh  Con- 
necticut shad  ! 

This  I  do  not  remember,  but  I  do  remember, 
when  I  was  a  little  girl,  how  he  would  rush 
into  the  house,  speak  to  no  one,  rush  out  and 
promenade  back  and  forth  over  the  wide  garden 
walk,  then  in,  and  up  the  back  stairs  to  my 
father's  study.  > 

*9 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

My  parents  frequently  passed  their  summer 
vacations  at  Saratoga.  Once  my  mother  went 
alone,  leaving  as  housekeeper  my  sister  Susan, 
then  a  girl  of  fifteen.  One  Saturday  evening 
Dr.  Beecher  arrived.  Before  tea  he  went  to  the 
kitchen  to  see  what  he  could  find  there  to  tempt 
his  appetite.  An  iron  pot  of  clams  stood  on  the 
hearth,  and  the  good  man  took  a  clam  shell  and 
drank  of  the  savory  liquor.  The  little  house- 
keeper had  prepared  a  dessert  for  that  day  and 
also  one  for  the  following  Sabbath,  for  there  was 
very  little  cooking  in  our  home  on  the  Sabbath 
day.  These  desserts  were  standing  on  the  white 
ironing-table,  covered  by  a  napkin.  As  we  sat 
at  the  table  custards  were  brought  on  for  the 
Saturday  dessert ;  the  Doctor  pushed  away  his 
portion,  remarking,  "  I  thought  you  had  some 
whortleberry  pie."  He  had  peeped  under  the 
napkin  which  had  covered  the  two  desserts. 
Father  called  for  the  pastry,  the  custards  went 
begging,"  and  poor  Sue,  our  provident  house- 
keeper, had  to  make  other  arrangements  for  the 
next  day. 

In  1826  Dr.  Beecher  removed  to  Boston,  and 
there  was  a  strong  fight  against  unitarianism  in 
that  city  after  he  arrived.  My  father  went  on 
occasionally  to  fire  some  of  his  telling  shot. 

In  1830  Dr.  Beecher  was  called  to  Lane 
3° 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

Seminary,  and  left  Boston,  to  the  great  sorrow  of 
my  father.  During  his  first  visit  to  the  East  he 
came  to  our  house.  We  were  at  dinner.  My 
father,  hearing  his  voice  at  the  door,  rushed  out. 
We  followed,  and  there  were  the  two  D.  D.'s 
hugging  and  kissing  each  other.  Dr.  Beecher 
was  at  this  time  a  widower.  He  went  to  Bos- 
ton and  returned  in  a  few  weeks.  Again  his 
voice  was  heard  at  our  front  door.  He  rushed 
into  the  dining-room,  exclaiming :  "  Brother 
Taylor  !  Brother  Taylor  !  Come  out  and  see  my 
new  wife  !  "  My  father  proceeded  to  assist  the 
bride  to  alight  from  the  stage  coach.  A  few 
moments  of  earnest,  pleasant  conversation  fol- 
lowed, and  the  newly  married  pair  continued  on 
their  way  to  New  York.  This  lovely  and  beau- 
tiful woman  was  Mrs.  Jackson,  of  Boston,  a  for- 
mer parishioner  of  Dr.  Beecher. 

On  another  visit  he  came  down  in  the  noon 
train  from  Hartford,  to  deliver  at  Yale  College  his 
famous  lecture  on  "  Edwards/'  Mrs.  Beecher 
followed  later  in  the  day.  On  going  to  her  room 
she  found  the  Doctor's  best  suit  still  tied  up  in 
a  red  pocket  handkerchief.  She  returned  to  the 
parlor  with  a  smile,  saying  :  "  As  usual  the  Doc- 
tor has  gone  off  with  his  old  clothes  on." 

One  vacation  Mr.  Beecher  spent  several  days 
at  our  house,  and  he  and  my  father  read  aloud 

31 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

together.  Once  it  was  from  Scott's  novels,  of 
which  my  father  was  very  fond.  Again  it  was 
from  Burns.  I  well  remember  how  eloquent 
they  were  over  the  pathos  of  Jeanie  Deans,  and 
the  roars  of  laughter  over  the  wit  of  Cuddy  Hed- 

"gg- 

Mrs.  Stowe  once  said  to  me :  "  My  father  was 

twelve  years  your  father's  senior,  but  through 
life  he  had  an  unbounded  and  romantic  attach- 
ment for  him.  His  visits  were  always  hailed  with 
delight  by  the  Beecher  family  at  Litchfield," 
and,  she  added,  "  his  beauty  and  his  eloquence 
were  unsurpassed." 

About  three  years  before  Dr.  Beecher  died, 
he  and  his  wife  visited  my  mother  at  New  Haven. 
He  asked  my  mother  if  she  was  willing  that  he 
should  be  buried  at  the  side  of  my  father,  who 
died  in  1858.  Professor  Goodrich,  the  lifelong 
friend  of  both,  being  present,  fearing  that  the 
question  should  startle  and  worry  my  mother, 
replied  :  "  Brother  Beecher,  there  is  room  in  my 
lot  in  the  cemetery,  if  you  wish  to  be  laid  in 
New  Haven." 

"  I  wish  to  lie  beside  Brother  Taylor  and  in 
his  lot,"  was  Dr.  Beecher's  reply.  My  mother 
gave  him  every  assurance  and  he  was  satisfied. 
The  summer  before  he  died  another  visit  was 
made.  Before  the  good-bye  came  at  the  front 

3* 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

door,  he  pointed  toward  the  cemetery  but  did  not 
speak.  Mrs.  Beecher  said  :  "  Mrs.  Taylor,  he 
wishes  to  know  if  you  are  still  willing  that  he 
should  lie  beside  your  husband."  My  mother 
reassured  him  and  he  went  down  the  steps 

"  'Twixt  smiles  and  tears." 

Dr.  Beecher's  last  years  were  spent  in  Brook- 
lyn with  his  wife  at  the  home  of  Mrs.  White,  her 
daughter,  in  Willow  Street.  They  often  called 
at  our  home  in  Clark  Street,  and  he  would  in- 
variably talk  of  my  father.  Seating  himself  be- 
fore his  portrait,  Dr.  Beecher  would  exclaim  : 
"  Ah,  why  did  Taylor  die,  and  why  do  I  live  ? " 
Again  he  would  sit  before  it  and  weep,  without 
a  word.  And  when  his  mind  was  weakened  by 
age,  and  other  friends  were  forgotten,  one  would 
say  :  "  Surely  you  remember  Dr.  Taylor,"  and 
he  quickly  replied  :  "  Oh,  yes,  yes,  Taylor,  Tay- 
lor, a  part  of  me,  a  part  of  me." 

Once  when  looking  at  his  photograph,  he 
exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  Lord  God,  bring  my  soul  to 
see  the  man  with  whom  I  walked  in  sweet  coun- 
sel in  this  world."  Again,  his  daughter,  striv- 
ing to  cheer  him,  said :  "  You  remember  Dr. 
Taylor,"  he  replied :  "  Don't  tell  me  of  him  now. 
I  cannot  bear  it." 

These  two  great  and  good  men  lie  side  by 

33 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

side  in  the  cemetery  at  New  Haven.  They  had 
fought  together  for  the  "  New  Divinity,"  and 
this  had  made  them  one.  Their  aims  and  pur- 
poses were  also  one,  in  indicating  God's  ways  to 
man,  and  in  winning  souls  to  Christ.  They  were 
noble  and  lovely  in  their  lives,  and  in  death  they 
were  not  long  divided.  Who  can  measure  the 
happiness  of  such  souls  in  eternity? 

Miss  Catherine  Beecher  was  often  a  guest  at 
our  home  when  I  was  a  child.  I  will  not  say 
that  her  visits,  which  lasted  sometimes  for  weeks, 
wore  out  her  welcome,  but  I  will  say  that  the 
children  were  not  very  fond  of  her.  It  may  not 
have  been  that  she  never  noticed  us;  but  be- 
cause she  stole  the  hours  from  us  which  my  father 
had  devoted  to  us  at  the  table ;  for  during  those 
intense  controversial  days  he  had  very  little  time 
for  his  children. 

Edward  Beecher,  then  a  student  of  theology, 
was  often  with  us ;  also  George,  who  was  so  gen- 
ial, fervent,  and  sympathetic  that  he  won  all 
hearts. 

Every  member  of  the  Beecherfamily  of  whom 
I  had  any  knowledge  were  pronounced  abolition- 
ists. When  Mrs.  Stowe  electrified  all  lands  with 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  my  mother  said  that  she 
had  never  wondered  at  the  extremes  to  which 
the  family  went  on  the  subject  of  slavery,  on  ac- 

34 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

count  of  the  following  circumstance  :  As  a  little 
girl  my  mother  went  to  New  Haven  to  school, 
and  boarded  in  the  family  of  Parson  Hubbard, 
Rector  of  Trinity  Church.  A  son  of  the  Parson 
had  married  Mary  Foote,  sister  of  Dr.  Beecher's 
first  wife.  She  had  gone  as  a  bride  to  Havana, 
Cuba,  where  young  Hubbard  was  engaged  in 
trade.  She  soon  discovered  that  her  husband 
had  another  family  there — mulattoes — and,  as 
soon  as  she  could,  she  left  him  and  returned  to 
New  Haven. 

Parson  Hubbard  treated  her  as  a  daughter, 
and  while  my  mother  was  a  member  of  the  fam- 
ily, Mary  Hubbard  was  also  living  under  the 
same  roof,  lovely  and  beloved.  The  denouement 
must  have  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  young 
sons  and  daughters  of  Dr.  Beecher." 


The  old  New  Haven  home,  at  the  corner  of 
Temple  and  Wall  Streets,  where  Mrs.  Hatch  was 
born  and  married,  was,  after  her  mother's  death, 
in  1868,  sold  to  Centre  Church  for  the  parson- 
age. This  was  a  pleasant  circumstance  to  all  the 
family. 

In  recalling  this  old  home  Mrs.  Hatch  quotes 
Hood's  poem  : 

"  I  remember,  I  remember, 
The  house  where  I  was  born." 

35 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

Then  she  continues,  as  follows,  with  the  memo- 
ries of  her  own  childhood  days  and  married  life  : 


"The  garden  of  the  Temple  Street  house 
was  highly  cultivated.  There  never  were  such 
cherries,  raspberries,  pears  and  apples  as  grew  in 
it.  My  father  took  great  pains  with  everything 
in  the  way  of  fruit  and  vegetables.  High  box 
trees  grew  on  either  side  of  the  garden  walk,  and 
then  came  the  borders  of  flowers,  bearing  among 
others  the  sweetest  roses  and  lilies.  A  small  slid- 
ing gate  had  been  arranged  by  the  Morse  family 
for  the  especial  benefit  of  the  children,  and  Sarah 
and  Eliza  Tappan  afterwards  enjoyed  this  priv- 
ilege with  me,  through  our  doll  and  baby-house 
days. 

I  recall  many  old  Connecticut  clergymen, 
visitors  at  our  house.  One  of  these  was  Mr. 
Nettleton,  a  sort  of  traveling  preacher.  He  af- 
terwards, with  others,  denounced  the  Yale  the- 
ology. I  was  afraid  of  Mr.  Nettleton.  He  would 
sometimes  catch  me,  seat  me  on  his  knee,  and 
then  go  on  talking,  entirely  forgetting  me.  I 
was  thus  robbed  of  my  playtime. 

I  remember,  as  a  very  little  girl,  going  with 
my  governess  to  the  Centre  Church,  and  invari- 
ably going  to  sleep  with  my  head  in  her  lap. 

36 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

My  mother,  seated  in  the  corner  of  the  pew, 
sometimes  giving  me  the  large  red  morocco 
hymn  book  of"  Dwight's  Psalms  and  Hymns." 
Her  name  was  on  the  cover  in  red  letters,  and  I 
would  try  to  spell  it — Rebecca  M.  Taylor. 

I  greatly  admired  my  father,  and  I  can  re- 
member stopping  to  kiss  certain  articles  which 
exclusively  belonged  to  him. 

When, in  1 824,  Lafayette  visited  New  Haven, 
the  citizens  assembled  at  the  College  to  greet 
him.  I  was  carried  in  my  father's  arms,  and,  as 
the  procession  moved  by,  the  famous  Frenchman 
leaned  over  and  kissed  me. 

A  happy  little  girl,  I  went  to  Miss  Hough- 
ton's  school  on  College  Street,  until  I  was  ten 
years  old.  My  companions  were  the  children 
of  my  immediate  neighbors,  and  with  them  I 
hopped  and  skipped  and  romped  away  the  after- 
noon hours  of  each  day,  under  the  beautiful  elms 
in  Temple  Street.  We  often  took  our  dolls  and 
played  on  the  steps  of  the  churches  on  the  Green, 
which  was  not  then  the  trim  and  public  place 
it  now  is.  Sometimes  we  would  go  to  the  Hill- 
house  woods.  The  treasures  of  nuts  and  red  ap- 
ples which  we  gathered  were  hid  away  in  a 
drawer,  and  afterward  given  to  sister  Sue  and  lit- 
tle Nat.  This  only  little  brother  sometimes  ran 
away  from  home.  The  only  punishment  that 

37 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

produced  any  effect  was  dressing  him  in  girl's 
clothes. 

One  day  I  was  mounted  on  a  low  bar  fence, 
under  two  cherry  trees,  when  Professor  Silliman 
came  along.  He  took  both  my  hands  and 
gently  jumped  me  down,  saying,  "  That's  not 
a  pretty  thing  for  such  a  little  lady  as  you 
are  to  do." 

His  son  Benjamin,  always  my  dear  friend, 
also  went  to  Miss  Houghton's  school,  he  used 
to  bring  nuts  to  school,  he  would  give  Sue  and 
me  the  kernels  and  put  the  shells  in  a  hole  in 
the  floor. 

Our  week  day  occupations  and  play  ended 
at  sundown  on  Saturday  afternoon,  our  playthings 
were  then  put  away,  and  the  Sabbath  begun. 
Church  and  Sabbath  school  kept  us  busy  until 
tea  time  on  Sunday,. and  at  sundown  on  that  day 
we  were  allowed  to  quietly  walk  up  and  down 
the  garden.  My  mother  then  usually  took  out 
her  knitting  work  and  neighbors  would  drop  in. 
Perhaps  Professor  Goodrich,  Dr.  Webster  or 
Judge  Dagget.  Later,  when  my  sisters  were 
older,  there  were  calls  from  Theologs  and  some- 
times even  Academics. 

When  ten  years  of  age  I  went  with  some  of 
my  Temple  street  friends  to  Grove  Hall  School. 
Here  my  friendship  with  Lizzie  Atwater,  after- 

38 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

wards  Mrs.  Charnley,  and  Susan  Forbes,  who 
became  Mrs.  Benjamin  Silliman,  Jr.,  were  friend- 
ships which  lasted  as  long  as  they  lived. 

Fanny  Bristol,  afterwards  Mrs.  Murdock,  and 
Lizzie  Day,  afterwards  Mrs.  Professor  Thatcher, 
Fanny  and  Elizabeth  Whitney,  and  the  daugh- 
ters of  Mrs.  Street,  were  also  among  my  chosen 
friends  in  early  youth,  and  though  separated  by 
time  and  distance,  there  have  been  many  pleas- 
ant reunions  in  New  Haven. 

When  about  fifteen  I  went  with  Dr.  Fitch, 
then  Professor  at  Yale,  and  his  wife,  and  Susan 
Forbes  to  Boston.  We  travelled  in  a  stage- 
coach. We  stopped  one  night  at  Hartford,  an- 
other at  Worcester,  and  on  the  third  day  arrived 
in  Boston.  This  was  a  great  treat  to  me,  I  en- 
joyed so  much  with  my  dear  friend  Susan.  Then 
we  crossed  by  stage  from  Boston  to  Albany,  came 
down  the  Hudson  by  steamboat  to  New  York, 
and  after  a  visit  there  returned  by  boat  to  New 
Haven. 

From  this  time  on  the  friendship  of  Mrs. 
Fitch  was  most  valuable,  and  her  influence  most 
salutary  upon  me.  She  gave  new  impulse  to 
my  reading  and  studies,  inspired  me  with  new 
aims  in  life  and  life's  duties,  deepening  well  laid 
convictions,  and  inspiring  new  ones. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  I  left  Grove  Hall  School 

_  ' 39 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

with  some  regret,  being  much  attached  to  Miss 
Peters  and  Miss  Dutton;  the  latter  was  my  Latin 
teacher,  and  she  took  me  through  Virgil's  ./Eneid. 
I  had  studied  Dugald  Stewart,  Reid  and  Brown, 
Geometry  and  Algebra.  I  now  desired,  with 
my  friends  Lizzie  Atwater  and  Susan  Forbes,  to 
become  a  member  of  Miss  Delia  Bacon's  class. 
I  enjoyed  much  going  on  with  my  studies  in 
Mental  Philosophy,  or  rather,  going  back  to 
John  Locke,  and  forward  to  Cousin  and  Cole- 
ridge. Our  studies  in  Art  and  Literature  were 
delightful,  for  our  teacher  was  unbounded.  This 
lady  was  a  sister  of  Dr.  Leonard  Bacon,  my 
father's  successor  as  pastor  of  Centre  Church, 
where  he  remained  for  fifty  years.  She  was  a 
gifted,  refined  and  highly  cultivated  woman.  For 
about  ten  years  she  taught  classes  in  New  Haven 
in  Philosophy,  Art,  and  Literature.  She  was 
a  deep  and  earnest  student  in  the  plays  of  Shake- 
speare. Becoming  convinced  that  they  were  not 
written  by  Shakespeare,  but  by  Lord  Bacon,  she 
went  to  London  to  make  researches  on  that  sub- 
ject. After  this,  one  or  two  plausible  articles 
appeared  from  her  pen  in  Putnam's  Magazine. 
Hawthorne  and  other  literary  celebrities  were 
kind  and  attentive  to  her  in  England.  Miss 
Bacon  went  to  Stratford-on-Avon,  and  here  her 
infatuation  increased.  She  would  there  spend 

4-0 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

hours  alone  in  the  church  before  Shakespeare's 
tomb.  Illness  at  last  overtaking  her,  one  of  Dr. 
Bacon's  sons  brought  her  back  to  New  Haven, 
where  in  the  cemetery  her  remains  rest.  Since 
her  day  her  "  Shakespeare-Bacon  Theory  "  has 
been  from  time  to  time  discussed.  Her  pupils 
erected  a  monument  to  her  memory.  It  bears 
the  following  inscription: 

"  So  he  bringeth  them  unto  their  desired  Haven." 

"Tales  of  the  Puritans,"  and  "  The  Bride  of 
Fort  Edward,"  are  among  her  early  publications; 
the  former  written  when  she  was  sixteen  years 
old. 

About  this  time  I  joined  the  Chapel  church; 
we  were  always  privileged  to  hear  the  best  preach- 
ing of  the  day.  Dr.  Fitch  at  the  College,  and 
during  revivals,  which  often  took  place  in  those 
days,  Dr.  Joel  Parker  and  Dr.  Thomas  H. 
Skinner  were  all  prominent,  as  were  also  Dr. 
Edward  N.  Kirk  of  Boston,  and  Professor  Park 
of  Andover. 

In  1836,  my  eldest  sister,  Mary  Taylor,  was 
married  to  Rev.  Noah  Porter,  of  Farmington, 
Conn.  Mr.  Porter  later  became  Professor  of 
Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy  at  Yale  College. 
This  position  he  held  for  twenty  years,  and  in 
1870  was  elected  President  of  the  College.  In 

4* 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

the  year  1886  he  resigned  the  Presidency,  re- 
taining the  old  Professorship. 

My  sisters  Harriet  and  Susan  were  very  beau- 
tiful. Harriet  was  my  ideal,  and  as  beautiful  as 
ever  Polly  Northrup,  my  father's  cousin,  could 
have  been.  Susan,  brilliant,  vivacious,  sparkling, 
won  all  hearts  of  both  sexes ;  she  was  the  envy 
of  many  of  her  companions,  whose  admirers 
among  the  Yale  boys  were  fewer  than  her  own. 

My  sister  Harriet  married,  on  May  loth, 
1837,  Rev.  S.  G.  Buckingham  of  Lebanon, 
Conn.  He  later  succeeded  Rev.  Noah  Porter 
in  the  South  Church  in  Springfield.  This  was 
a  great  loss  to  me,  as  her  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion, as  an  elder  sister,  had  always  been  constant. 
It  is  not  in  my  power  to  eulogize  one  so  lovely. 

In  1836  my  friend  Lizzie  Atwater  was  mar- 
ried and  went  to  Philadelphia.  Susan  Forbes 
and  I  officiated  as  bridesmaids.  The  bride  was 
in  white  satin,  we  in  pink  satin  and  blond  lace. 
My  groomsman  was  one  Walter  T.  Hatch,  who 
had  made  his  appearance  about  a  year  previous 
at  the  Temple  street  home, — and  with  whom 
there  had  gradually  been  made  an  arrangement 
— which  arrangement,  on  account  of  the  youth 
of  both  parties,  was  not  fully  endorsed  by  my 
parents.  This  was  much  wondered  at,  to  be 
sure,  by  Walter  and  Rebecca,  when  they  con- 

4* 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

sidered  the  example  of  Nathaniel  and  Rebecca 
of  thirty  or  forty  years  before. 

Rebecca  was  told  that  she  must  not  walk 
with  Walter,  or  allow  him  at  the  house,  except 
on  Wednesday  or  Saturday  afternoons,  the  Col- 
lege half-holidays.  His  father  had  sent  him  to 
New  Haven  for  his  education.  The  two  were 
grieved  and  obeyed  for  a  time,  but  somehow  or 
other,  the  arrangement  previously  made  by  these 
sixteen-year-old  youngsters  seemed  to  progress, 
and,  engaged  or  not  engaged,  there  was  no  fur- 
ther opposition,  and  in  1837  another  dark-haired 
handsome  Senior  was  praised  for  his  commence- 
ment oration,  and  another  Rebecca  was  happy 
at  his  side ;  I  have  the  diploma  which  he  then 
received. 

Some  of  his  classmates,  graduating  with  him 
in  the  famous  class  of  1837,  were  Dr.  A.  B. 
Robeson,  William  M.  Evarts,  since  Secretary  of 
State,  Dr.  Andrew  Stone,  of  Boston  and  Cali- 
fornia ;  President  Chapin,  of  Beloit  College ; 
Benjamin  Silliman,  Jr.,  Morrison  R.  Waite, 
Chief  Justice  of  the  United  States,  and  Edwards 
Pierrepont. 

The  college  vacations  had  always  seemed 
very  long.  During  the  autumn  vacation  of 
1837,  I  had  visited  my  friend  Mrs.  Charnley 
in  Philadelphia  ;  stopping  for  a  short  visit  at  the 

43 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

home  of  Walter's  father  in  New  York.  This 
was  then  at  5 1 6  Broadway,  opposite  Astor  Place, 
where  Scribner's  warehouse  now  stands.  There 
were  three  handsome  houses  in  a  row,  Mr. 
Hatch  lived  in  one,  his  uncle,  Mr.  SpofFord,  in 
another,  and  old  John  Jacob  Astor  in  the  third. 
It  was  "  far  up  town  "  at  that  time. 

The  year  1838  was  spent  by  Walter  at  New 
Haven  studying  Hebrew  and  German  prepara- 
tory to  the  study  of  Theology,  but  it  was  deemed 
best  on  account  of  his  health,  that  he  should  go 
to  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  where  his  elder 
brother  lived,  and  where  the  mercantile  firm  of 
his  father  had  established  a  branch.  Walter's 
father  was  Arouet  Melvin  Hatch,  and  his  mother 
Susan  Prescott  SpofFord. 

My  son,  Arthur  Melvin  Hatch,  is  named  for 
his  grandfather,  for  Mr.  Hatch,  as  a  child,  was 
called  Arthur,  but  he  was  an  orphan, and  the  aunt 
with  whom  he  lived  changed  his  name  to  Arouet, 
a  historical  character  who  figured  in  the  French 
Revolution. 

My  son,  Henry  Prescott  Hatch,  is  named  for 
his  grandmother  and  her  youngest  son,  Henry 
Prescott.  Whittier,  the  Quaker  poet  was  a  friend 
of  Mrs.  Susan  P.  Hatch,  and  he  wrote  in  her 
album  some  original  verses,  which  Arthur,  her 
grandson  has  preserved. 

44 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

Walter  T.  Hatch  resolved  to  go  into  mer- 
cantile life  in  Charleston,  and  for  nearly  two 
years  he  was  absent  from  New  Haven. 

November  i  oth,  1 840,  was  our  wedding  even- 
ing. It  was  decided  that  we  must  have  a  very 
quiet  wedding,  for  if  any  were  invited,  the  whole 
town  and  college  must  be.  So  we  compromised 
— urging  that  all  married  people  should  seat 
themselves  at  their  own  firesides  on  that  evening, 
and  that  only  the  young  people  should  come. 
We  had  a  very  pretty  company  and  a  very  pretty 
wedding,  and  I  think  that  my  father  tied  the 
knot  with  great  care. 

My  sister  Sue  was  my  bridesmaid,  and  her 
fiance,  Abel  Bellows  Robeson,  her  groomsman  ; 
she  looked  very  pretty  in  her  white  silk  dress. 

We  spent  our  honeymoon  at  Uncle  Spof- 
ford's  in  New  York.  His  wife  was  Susan  Spring, 
daughter  of  Dr.  Samuel  Spring  of  Old  Brick 
Church  memory. 

Next  came  the  home  in  Brooklyn,  first  four 
years  in  Washington  Street,  where  my  eldest 
child  was  born ;  then  we  removed  to  Clark 
Street,  where  we  lived  for  twenty-six  years,  and 
in  1870  to  Remsen  Street,  where  we  have  al- 
ready lived  for  over  fifteen  years. 

Our  silver  wedding  took  place  November 
i  oth,  1865.  It  was  a  pleasant  gathering  of 

45 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

about  two  hundred  relatives  and  friends.  Our 
four  children  stood  beside  us  while  Dr.  Storrs 
offered  a  short  prayer.  I  wore  a  silver-colored 
moire  antique  dress,  a  wreath  of  fine  white 
flowers,  from  which  descended  a  short  veil  of 
tulle.  Congratulations  were  sincere  and  numer- 
ous; we  received  letters  from  some  aged 
friends  who  could  not  be  present.  An  ac- 
count of  guests,  presents,  etc.,  may  be  found 
in  my  scrap-book. 

My  friend  Augusta  Street  had  married  Ad- 
miral Andrew  H.  Foote,  and  they  lived  at  the 
Brooklyn  Navy  Yard.  Admiral  Foote  was  a 
Christian  and  devoted  to  the  cause  of  temperance 
in  the  American  Navy.  While  stationed  here 
he  often  came  on  Sunday  evenings  to  hear  Dr. 
Storrs  preach.  We  once  gave  them  a  pleas- 
ant dinner ;  we  invited  to  meet  them  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Henry  Field ;  Mrs.  Field  was  a  French 
lady  of  some  note;  also  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Storrs  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chittenden.  We  also  dined  with 
the  Footes  at  the  Navy  Yard,  meeting  there 
Admiral  and  Mrs.  Rowan.  Admiral  Foote  once 
invited  me  to  a  ball  on  board  the  North  Caro- 
lina, then  the  receiving  ship  at  the  Navy  Yard. 
I  replied  that  I  had  never  been  to  a  ball  and 
declined.  A  note  came  from  him  that  he  would 
not  accept  my  declination,  and,  he  added,  "  Do 

46 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

come  and  wear  the  black  velvet  gown  and  the 
white  plumes  which  you  wore  at  the  party  at  Mrs. 

,  altho'  it  would  not  do  for  a  gentleman  to 

'  show  the  white  feather  '  !  "  Of  course  I  ac- 
cepted ;  the  dancing  was  on  the  deck,  the  lights 
from  chandeliers  arranged  with  guns  and  arms, 
each  gun  and  sword  holding  a  candle — a  very 
unique  and  fine  affair. 

When  later  Admiral  Rowan  was  commander 
at  the  Yard  I  went  to  a  beautiful  luncheon  given 
by  Mrs.  Rowan.  The  dishes  were  all  Japan- 
ese ;  there  were  at  least  a  dozen  courses,  and 
each  set  of  dishes  Admiral  Rowan  had  brought 
from  Japan. 

My  nephew,  now  Admiral  Henry  Bellows 
Robeson,  was  at  that  time  on  Admiral  Rowan's 
staff.  When  Captain  Robeson  was  a  young  boy 
Admiral  Foote  had  persuaded  my  father  to  allow 
him  to  go  into  the  Navy.  My  sister  had,  in  her 
last  illness,  asked  my  husband  to  take  him,  a  boy 
of  fourteen,  to  the  Annapolis  Naval  Academy. 
I  went  with  him,  too,  and  it  was  with  many 
pangs  and  misgivings  that,  in  1856,  I  left  the 
boy  in  that  strange  place.  He  has  since  seen 
much  service.  He  was  at  New  Orleans  and 
Fort  Fisher.  He  also  commanded  a  monitor  at 
Charleston  during  the  war  of  the  Rebellion, 
1861-1865.  He  has  since  commanded  the  Van- 

47 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

dalia,  the  ship  which  took  General  Grant  around 
the  world. 

My  acquaintance  with  the  Lady  Juliana 
Walker  commenced  in  London  in  1873,  through 
a  mutual  acquaintance,  Mr.  Berkley.  He  found 
that  I  was  interested  in  her  Bible  Album  work, 
and  she  sent  me  an  album  which  she  had  made. 
It  was  a  very  taking  thing,  and  many  of  these 
albums  were  distributed  in  various  hospitals  in 
New  York.  One  was  sent  to  India,  and  many  in- 
valids found  pleasant  occupation  in  making  them 
there.  The  treasures  of  the  Bible  seem  to  come 
forth  tenfold  when  this  use  is  made  of  pictures. 
I  received  a  second  album  from  the  same  source 
in  which  pictures  illustrated  subjects,  quite  a  re- 
markable book. 

In  1877,  being  in  London  with  my  son  Ar- 
thur, I  saw  Lady  Juliana.  Her  husband,  Lieu- 
tenant-General  Sir  Walter  Walker,  called  upon 
me  at  Fenton's  Hotel.  I  was  invited  to  dine  at 
their  house.  Lady  Elizabeth  Knox,  her  sister, 
also  called.  At  her  home  I  saw  their  invalid  sister, 
Lady  Flora  Knox.  These  three  ladies,  daughters 
of  the  Earl  of  Ranfurly,  are  very  religious  and 
devoted  to  every  good  work.  Their  grandmother, 
Lady  Juliana  Penn,  was  the  granddaughter  of  Sir 
William  Penn,  the  Quaker.  I  have  corresponded 
with  Lady  Juliana  for  twelve  years. 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES 

When  we  first  came  to  Brooklyn  Dr.  Cox, 
a  friend  of  my  father's,  was  our  first  pastor. 
The  first  time  that  he  called  upon  me  he  said, 
"  My  dear,  I  know  exactly  how  old  you  are ; 
you  were  twenty-two  years  old  last  September. 
You  wonder  how  I  know.  Well,  just  twenty- 
two  years  ago,  having  heard  much  of  the  '  New 
Theology '  or  « Taylorism '  at  Yale,  I  resolved 
to  go  and  see  for  myself.  So  I  went  to  New 
Haven,  and  your  father  invited  me  to  visit  him. 
You  were  a  little  baby,  not  a  week  old.  Your 
mother  and  you  were  in  a  bedroom  on  the  first 
floor,  and  your  father  and  I  occupied  the  two 
front  chambers  above.  We  left  the  door  open 
between  the  rooms  and  talked  theology  all  night. 
I  loved  your  father,  and  I  am  ready  to  love 
you/' 

Dr.  Cox  was  the  pastor  of  the  First  Presby- 
terian Chuch.  When,  in  1 845,  it  was  considered 
best  to  establish  a  Congregational  Church  in 
Brooklyn,  we  left  Dr.  Cox's  church  with  about 
sixty  others  and  established  the  Church  of  the 
Pilgrims.  Before  Dr.  Storrs  was  called  my  father 
often  occupied  the  pulpit,  and  once  when  he  did 
my  baby  Rebecca  and  the  baby  Anna  Battell 
Humphrey  were  baptized  by  him. 

It  would  not  be  possible  for  me  to  relate  the 
events  of  our  lives  in  Brooklyn,  nor  to  delineate 

49 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

the  pleasant  social  position  we  have  ever  occu- 
pied, nor  the  valuable  friendships  formed  here. 
But  the  exceeding  profit,  mental  and  spiritual, 
to  ourselves  and  our  children  from  the  friend- 
ship and  teaching  of  our  beloved  pastor,  Rev. 
Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs,  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  and 
will,  I  trust,  be  lasting  as  eternity.  May  a  sweet 
sense  of  this  friendship,  these  teachings  and 
these  influences,  ever  hover  over  our  remaining 
years  and  be  ripened  with  those  of  our  earlier 
lives  in  a  better  world  !  The  lines  have  indeed 
fallen  to  us  in  pleasant  places. 

Many  changes,  many  bereavements,  many 
trials  have  come  to  us ;  to  whom  do  they  not 
come?  May  our  few  future  years,  if  any  re- 
main, be  blessed  to  us  by  our  Heavenly  Father, 
by  new  obedience,  new  fortitude  and  a  stronger 
faith  in  his  sure  promises  of  love  and  forgive- 
ness. And  may  we  all  be  filled  with  the  full- 
ness of  God  forever ! 

I  once  asked  my  father  to  give  me  his  idea 
of  heaven.  "  If,"  he  replied,  "  you  will  tell 
me  what  the  text  means,  *  Ye  shall  be  filled 
with  the  fullness  of  God,'  I  will  tell  you  what 
heaven  is.'3 


HERE  the  "  Reminiscences "   end,  and  we 
take  up  the  broken  chain  and  reverently  add  a 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES 

few  links  of  personal  estimate  of  her  rare  wo- 
manhood and  worth. 

Her  memories,  as  we  have  read  them,  treat 
largely  of  life  and  friendship  in  the  early  days 
of  the  old  college  town,  of  the  Temple  Street 
home,  and  of  the  Centre  Church. 

Ours  must  cluster  about  her  later  Brooklyn 
home,  and  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims.  Both 
are  on  Remsen  Street,  one  of  the  few  streets 
that  in  all  the  changes  in  our  city  has  best  pre- 
served its  individuality.  Here  for  many  years  she 
has  lived,  presiding  with  grace  and  dignity  over 
her  home,  and  making  her  personality  strongly 
felt  in  Dr.  Storrs'  church.  In  this  church 
Mr.  Hatch  was  for  thirty-eight  years  the  hon- 
ored Treasurer,  and  he  was  also  many  times  a 
Trustee.  And  Mrs.  Hatch  has  given  to  it, 
from  its  very  beginning,  her  constant  and  affec- 
tionate interest.  And  besides,  with  her  winning 
charm,  her  social  tact  and  executive  skill,  she 
has  closely  identified  herself  with  many  of  the 
noblest  interests  of  our  city.  Truly  "  the  best 
memories  of  those  that  are  gone  are  those  which 
they  in  their  lifetime  erect  to  themselves." 

Even  in  her  declining  years  she  was  a  dili- 
gent reader  and  always  a  ready  conversationalist. 
She  never  grew  old  in  spirit.  The  intense  real- 
ity of  her  faith  sustained  her  in  her  last  illness. 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

Waking  one  day,  after  a  long  sleep,  and  looking 
about  her,  she  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "Why,  this 
is  not  heaven."  But  she  is  in  the  open  vision 
now,  in  His  presence,  where  "  is  fullness  of 
joy." 


PRESS  NOTICES— LETTERS- 
MINUTES 


[FROM  THE  BROOKLYN  DAILY  EAGLE,  DECEMBER  10,  1904.] 
REBECCA    TAYLOR    HATCH 

REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH,  widow 
of  Walter  T.  Hatch,  died  at  her  home, 
1 24  Remsen  Street,  Brooklyn,  yesterday 
afternoon. 

Mrs.  Hatch  was  born  in  New  Haven,  Conn., 
September  26,  1818.  She  was  the  daughter  of 
the  Reverend  Nathaniel  William  Taylor,  D.D., 
LL.  D.,  and  Rebecca  Maria  Hine.  Mrs.  Hatch 
was  the  youngest  of  four  daughters,  all  of  whom 
married  men  eminent  in  professional  life,  the 
eldest  daughter  being  the  wife  of  Noah  Porter, 
president  of  Yale  College  from  1871  to  1886. 
Another  married  the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  G.  Buck- 
ingham, for  fifty  years  pastor  of  the  South  Con- 
gregational Church  of  Springfield,  Mass.,  while 
another  became  the  wife  of  Abel  Bellows  Robe- 
son,  M.  D.,  of  New  York  City.  Doctor  Taylor, 

55 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

a  graduate  of  Yale  of  the  class  of  1807,  was  an 
eminent  theologian,  distinguished  in  the  great 
discussions  that  agitated  the  minds  of  Christian 
men  fifty  years  ago,  and  was  also  the  pastor  of 
Centre  Church  fromi8i2  to  1822,  when  he  was 
called  by  the  Corporation  of  Yale  College  to  be- 
come the  head  of  the  Theological  Seminary 
where  he  remained  till  1858,  the  time  of  his 
death.  He  was  a  man  of  commanding  person- 
ality, and  much  of  his  charm,  beauty  of  person 
and  brilliancy  of  mind  were  inherited  by  his 
daughter.  While  yet  a  school  girl  she  met  her 
future  husband,  Walter  T.  Hatch,  then  a  student 
in  the  famous  class  of '37,  of  which  William  M. 
Evarts,  Chief  Justice  Waite,  and  Edwards  Pierre- 
pont  were  conspicuous  members.  Married  in 
1 840,  she  with  her  husband  moved  to  Brooklyn. 
For  twenty-five  years  she  resided  in  Clark  Street, 
where  her  seven  children,  excepting  one,  were 
born.  In  1870  she  removed  to  her  present 
home  in  Remsen  Street  in  which  she  died.  Mrs. 
Hatch  came  of  distinguished  New  England  and 
Puritan  ancestry.  Her  paternal  ancestor,  John 
Taylor,  settled  in  Windsor,  Conn.,  in  1 639.  Her 
great-great-grandfather,  Daniel  Taylor,  was  a 
graduate  of  Yale  College  of  the  class  of  1707. 
His  son,  the  Reverend  Nathanael  Taylor,  of  New 
Milford,  born  in  1720,  was  a  member  of  Yale 

56 


PRESS  NOTICES 

College,  class  of  1745,  and  is  spoken  of  in 
Sprague's  "Annals  of  the  Pulpit,"  as  a  "zealous 
advocate  of  the  American  Revolution."  "  One 
of  the  ways  in  which  he  evinced  this  was  by 
remitting  to  his  people  during  the  contest  an  en- 
tire year's  salary.  This  the  parish  records  show, 
under  his  hand,  bearing  date  April,  1779."  For 
twenty-six  years  he  was  a  fellow  of  Yale  Col- 
lege. The  Reverend  Nathanael  Taylor  also  took 
part  in  the  colonial  wars,  and  was  chaplain  of 
Colonel  Nathan  Whiting's  regiment  at  Ticon- 
deroga  and  Crown  Point,  1759.  The  powder 
horn  which  he  carried  she  greatly  prized  as  an 
heirloom.  Mrs.  Hatch  was  identified  with  all 
that  was  best  in  the  social  life  of  Brooklyn  and 
in  its  benevolent  interests.  She  and  her  hus- 
band were  among  the  seventy-one  founders  of 
the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  was  present  at 
the  laying  of  the  cornerstone  of  this  historic  land- 
mark in  1 844.  She  was  especially  interested  in 
extending  Christ's  kingdom  in  the  world,  and 
by  means  of  translations  of  simple,  religious  Sun- 
day-School books  into  foreign  languages,  she  was 
the  means  of  circulating  over  80,000  volumes 
which  have  been  distributed  in  foreign  countries. 
One  touching  story,  "  Christie's  Old  Organ,"  has 
been  translated  into  eighteen  languages  and  dia- 
lects, and  by  this  means  the  message  of  Christ  has 

57 


REBECCA  TAYLOR  HATCH 

been  carried  to  thousands  of  children.  Three 
children,  Mrs.  Rebecca  M.  Stuart,  Henry  P. 
Hatch  and  Arthur  M.  Hatch,  also  six  grand- 
children and  four  great-grandchildren,  survive 
her.  The  funeral  will  take  place  Tuesday  after- 
noon in  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  of  which 
she  was  a  constituent  member.  Her  death  leaves 
only  two  survivors. 

[FROM  BROOKLYN  LIFE,  DECEMBER  17,  1904.] 

THOUGH  tempered  by  the  fact  that  she  had 
reached  an  advanced  age  and  the  knowledge  that 
she  had  long  been  an  invalid,  the  death  of  Mrs. 
Walter  T.  Hatch,  on  Friday  of  last  week,  was 
another  sad  blow  to  the  Heights  community,  of 
which  she  had  been  an  influential  member  for 
more  than  fifty  years.  During  all  her  life  Mrs. 
Hatch  had  been  especially  active  in  the  interests 
of  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  of  which  she  and 
her  late  husband  were  two  of  the  seventy-one 
original  founders.  The  Hatches  were  among 
the  New  England  families  who,  by  their  pre- 
dominance on  the  Heights  in  the  early  part  of 
the  last  century,  overcame  the  earlier  Dutch  in- 
fluence and  gave  to  the  social  life  of  Brooklyn 
the  New  England  stamp  that  has  since  charac- 
terized it.  Of  the  prominence  of  the  family  it 
is  scarcely  necessary  to  speak.  Mrs.  Hatch,  who 


PRESS  NOTICES 


before  her  marriage  was  Miss  Rebecca  Taylor, 
was  of  exceptionally  distinguished  New  England 
ancestry,  having  been  the  youngest  of  the  four 
daughters  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Nathaniel  William 
Taylor,  who  at  the  time  of  his  death  was  head 
of  the  Theological  Seminary  of  Yale  University, 
from  which  he  had  himself  been  graduated  in 
1 807.  Her  great-grandfather,  the  Rev.  Nathan- 
ael  Taylor,  and  his  father  before  him  were  also 
graduates  of  Yale,  and  the  former  was  conspicu- 
ous as  a  Revolutionary  patriot,  having  taken  up 
arms  in  the  cause,  as  well  as  contributed  a  year's 
income  to  it.  Mrs.  Hatch  came  to  Brooklyn  at 
the  time  of  her  marriage  in  1840,  and  until 
1870,  when  they  removed  to  their  present 
residence,  124  Remsen  Street,  the  family  lived 
on  Clark  Street.  Mr.  Hatch  was  a  member 
of  the  famous  class  of  '37  Yale,  his  classmates 
including  Chief  Justice  Waite,  William  M. 
Evarts  and  Edwards  Pierrepont.  Mrs.  Hatch's 
three  sisters  all  married  men  of  distinction, 
particularly  the  eldest,  who  was  the  wife  of 
Noah  Porter,  for  fifteen  years  president  of  Yale 
University.  Mrs.  Hatch  is  survived  by  three 
children — Mrs.  Rebecca  M.  Stuart,  Mr.  Henry 
Prescott  Hatch  and  Mr.  Arthur  M.  Hatch, 
and  by  six  grandchildren  and  four  great-grand- 
children. 


59 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

[FROM    THE   BROOKLYN   STANDARD-UNION,   DECEMBER    13, 

1904.] 

FUNERAL   SERVICES   OF    MRS. 
REBECCA  T.  HATCH 

THE  funeral  of  Mrs.  Rebecca  Taylor  Hatch, 
widow  of  Walter  Tilden  Hatch,  and  long  iden- 
tified with  the  social  and  benevolent  interests  of 
Brooklyn,  who  died  on  Friday  last,  took  place 
at  2  o'clock  this  afternoon  from  her  late  resi- 
dence, 124  Remsen  Street. 

The  list  of  honorary  pall-bearers  include  the 
Rev.  Frank  K.  Sanders,  dean  of  the  Yale  Theo- 
logical Seminary ;  Thomas  E.  Stillman,  Joseph 
E.  Brown,  George  P.  Stockwell,  A.  A.  Low, 
William  A.  Read,  James  M.  Montgomery,  and 
Cyrus  B.  Davenport. 

A  large  number  of  relatives  and  friends  of 
the  deceased  attended  the  funeral  services  in  the 
Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  Henry  and  Remsen 
Streets,  at  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  H.  P.  Dewey 
officiated.  The  interment  was  in  the  Green- 
wood Cemetery. 

YALE  UNIVERSITY,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
December  12,  1904. 
MY  DEAR  MRS.  STUART  : 

Mrs.  Hadley  and  I  were  both  greatly  pained 
to  hear  that  your  mother  was  not  to  be  with  us 

60 


LETTERS 

any  more.  Little  as  we  had  seen  of  her,  we 
felt  very  strongly  the  force  and  charm  of  her 
personality.  It  is  not  simply  or  chiefly  on  ac- 
count of  what  she  did  for  Yale  that  I  am  writing 
this — although  she  did  so  much  that  her  name 
will  be  gratefully  remembered  by  many  who  did 
not  know  her  personally — but  still  more  now  on 
account  of  what  she  was.  And  to  me  in  par- 
ticular the  remembrance  of  my  own  mother's 
early  affection  for  Dr.  Taylor's  family — an  affec- 
tion to  which  she  was  constantly  recurring  in 
the  last  years  of  her  life — makes  your  mother's 
departure  mean  another  break  in  the  constantly 
narrowing  circle  of  those  who  connect  us  more 
closely  with  the  family  life  of  the  past.  Pray 
accept  our  most  sincere  sympathy,  and  believe  me 
ever 

Faithfully  yours, 

(Signed)  ARTHUR  TWINING  HADLEY. 
Mrs.  R.  M.  Stuart. 


YALE  DIVINITY  QUARTERLY. 
New  Haven,  Conn.,  February  4,  1905. 

MR.  HENRY  P.  HATCH, 

96  Broadway,  N.  Y.  City. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  HATCH  : 

I   am  sending   you   under  separate  cover,  a 
copy  of  our  December  Quarterly  which  contains 

61 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

an  editorial  notice  of  the  death  of  your  lamented 
mother,  Mrs.  R.  T.  Hatch.  Delay  in  securing 
your  address  prevented  me  from  doing  this  at  the 
time  of  issue.  It  is  my  personal  hope,  as  also 
that  of  the  Board,  that  in  these  words  of  com- 
memoration the  family  and  friends  of  Mrs.  Hatch 
may  see  an  expression  of  our  true  sympathy  and 
regard  for  those  who  mourn  the  passing  beyond 
of  one  whose  interest  and  benefaction  has  meant 
so  much  to  Yale  divinity  school.  May  I  ask 
that  other  members  of  the  family  receive  our 
communication  through  your  kindness. 
Very  sincerely  and  for  the  Board, 

(Signed)  GEORGE  H.  DRIVER. 


[FROM  YALE  DIVINITY  QUARTERLY,  DECEMBER,  1904] 

IN  the  death  of  Mrs.  Rebecca  Taylor  Hatch, 
of  Brooklyn,  the  Divinity  School  loses  one  more 
from  that  group  of  friends  and  benefactors  which 
links  the  new  Yale  to  the  old.  A  daughter  of 
Nathaniel  W.  Taylor,  one  of  Yale's  most  famous 
theological  professors,  Mrs.  Hatch  was  interested 
in  1902  to  create  by  a  gift  of  $5,000  the  Na- 
thaniel William  Taylor  Lectureship  in  Theology. 
The  incumbents  of  this  lectureship  have  been 
Professor  Knox  of  Union  in  1903,  and  President 
Mackenzie  of  Hartford  in  1904;  this  year  the 

6a 


MINUTE 

series  is  to  be  given  by  Professor  Clarke  of  Col- 
gate. Our  sympathy  as  a  seminary  is  extended 
to  those  with  whom  Yale  shares  bereavement  in 
the  passing  home  of  one  beloved  and  "  full  of 
good  works." 


"  THE  following  minute  was  adopted  by  the 
Foreign  Sunday  School  Association  at  its  meet- 
ing, January  5th,  1905  :— 

'  THE  Foreign  Sunday  School  Association  has 
learned  with  profound  sorrow  of  the  decease  of 
Mrs.  Walter  T.  Hatch.  Mrs.  Hatch  has  been 
actively  associated  with  us  in  the  work  of  the 
Society  almost  from  its  very  beginning.  She 
began  her  work  in  1876  with  the  publication 
of  one  thousand  copies  of  "Christie's  Old  Organ  " 
for  the  Sunday  Schools  of  Germany,  and  not  a 
year  has  elapsed  since  without  the  publication  in 
some  language  of  one  to  five  works,  until  the 
publications  with  which  she  has  been  identified 
have  reached  an  aggregate  of  more  than  ninety- 
four  thousand  volumes,  including  thirteen  dif- 
ferent works,  and  extending  in  some  cases  to 
from  thirteen  to  nineteen  languages.  These 
books  have  been  so  widely  welcomed  and  richly 
blessed,  that  they  may  be  said  in  some  cases  to 
have  been  almost  the  inauguration  of  this  de- 
partment of  the  national  literature.  Indeed  just 

63 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

before  the  decease  of  Mrs.  Hatch,  she  had  au- 
thorized the  publication  of  another  work  in  the 
Burmese,  whose  issue  was  awaited  by  those  who 
had  the  work  in  charge  with  high  anticipation 
and  hearty  acclaim. 

*  We  wish  to  convey  to  the  bereaved  family 
the  assurance  of  our  sincere  sympathy  with  them 
in  their  deep  sense  of  loss,  in  which  it  may  be 
a  sense  of  comfort  to  them  to  realize  that  it  is 
borne  with  them  by  so  large  a  company  in  so 
many  and  so  distant  lands.* 

A  copy  of  this  minute  shall  be  spread  upon 
the  records  of  the  Society,  and  a  copy  sent  to 
the  family." 


TESTIMONIALS 


TESTIMONIALS 

"X"  FEEL  most  deeply  for  you  all.  I  was 
|  much  attached  to  your  mother,  and  I  can 
never  forget  her  uniform  sweetness  and 
kindness  to  me  and  mine.  I  always  looked  up 
to  her  as  a  noble  gentlewoman  of  the  old  school, 
whose  exquisite  breeding,  clever  mind  and  gen- 
erous heart  elevated  all  who  came  in  contact 
with  her.  To  me  she  seemed  the  last  of  a 
generation  of  gentlemen  and  ladies  whom  we 
revered,  and  whom  to  emulate  was  our  best 
ambition,  though  we  fell  far  short.  She 
seemed  the  last  of  a  circle  whom  I  loved  so 
dearly." 


"  I  WAS  so  grieved  to  hear  the  sad  news  of 
the  death  of  your  dear  mother.  How  you  will 
miss  her.  I  can  indeed  sympathize  with  you, 

67 


REBECCA   TAYLOR-  HATCH 

for  it  is  only  eighteen  months  since  my  own  dear 
mother  passed  away.  It  is  a  loss  that  nothing 
can  replace,  yet  we  can  rejoice  in  their  joy  and 
look  forward  to  the  day  when  we  shall  see  them 
again.  What  a  wonderful  work  for  the  dear 
Master  Mrs.  Hatch  has  done — a  work  which 
goes  on  still,  and  will  go  on  for  years  to  come. 
'  Her  works  do  follow  her,'  and  oh  how  she 
will  welcome  one  after  another  of  those  who 
are  safely  gathered  in  through  her  efforts ;  surely 
a  great  multitude  from  North,  South,  East  and 
West,  wherever  her  influence  has  spread." 


"  I  FELT  much  grieved  for  you,  to  whom  the 
loss  of  such  a  mother  is  irreparable ;  and  you 
must  have  enjoyed  many  years  of  close  and  heart- 
felt intercourse  with  her.  I  felt  that  personally 
I  had  lost  a  friend,  though  unknown  to  me. 
But  for  her  there  can  be  no  ground  for  sorrow. 
A  life  so  long,  spent  enthusiastically  in  the  ser- 
vice of  our  Lord,  must  have  ended  in  an  abun- 
dant entrance  into  His  joy.  Of  that  future  life 
we  can  know  nothing,  but  as  our  hymn  writer 
Baxter  says, 

" '  'Tis  enough  that  Christ  knows  all 
And  we  shall  be  with  Him.' 

68 


TESTIMONIALS 

"  To  His  infinite  love  and  wisdom  we  may  safely 
commit  ourselves  and  our  dear  ones.  Your 
mother's  letters  showed  so  much  life  and  vivac- 
ity that  I  did  not  suppose  her  older  than  my- 
self." 


"  DEAR  Mrs.  Hatch,  what  a  noble,  beautiful 
and  useful  life  was  hers  !  I  count  it  a  great 
privilege  to  have  known  her,  and  that  my  chil- 
dren should  have  seen  the  dignity  and  sweet- 
ness of  old  age,  as  exemplified  in  your  dear 
mother's  life." 


"  I  MUST  just  say  a  word  about  how  beauti- 
ful the  services  for  your  blessed  mother  were. 
It  was  all  so  uplifting;  and  one  felt  her  own 
sweet  and  gracious  presence  to  be  very  near, 
and  that  every  word  spoken  was  what  she  would 
have  loved.  I  am  thankful  to  have  had  the 
privilege  of  being  there." 


"  How  strange  it  is  to  think  that  now  all 
troubles  have  dropped  away  from  her,  all  anxi- 
ety for  the  future,  all  grief  for  the  past,  and  only 
the  soul,  purified  and  sanctified  by  this  earthly 

69 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

life,  is  ready  to  «  enter  into  the  joy '  of  the 
Lord.  Last  winter  we  had  some  little  talks 
about  the  higher  criticism,  and  agreed  that  we 
both  wished  to  hold  to  our  early  belief  in  the 
gospel  of  John  especially,  and  that  we  could 
not  do  without  the  Psalms.  Whether  they  are 
David's  or  other  people's  they  are  ours,  since 
they  express  our  feelings.  If  there  are  blessed 
reunions  in  that  other  life  that  we  hope  for, 
how  happy  they  all  are  together — she,  with  her 
husband  and  her  father  and  her  children  and 
her  sisters,  and  how  glad  they  all  are  to  see  her 
again.  Surely  it  can  do  no  harm  to  hope  for 
what  we  so  long  for,  and  I  think  she  expected 
to  see  them  all  again," 


"  MY  own  mother  had  a  very  great  and  sin- 
cere admiration  for  yours,  and  I  have  always  re- 
membered her  enthusiastic  way  of  saying  once, 
oh,  so  many  years  ago — '  When  I  am  near  Mrs. 
Hatch  I  always  feel  as  if  I  were  near  an  angel.' 
Grief  is  lonely  and  always  grief.  One  must  have 
felt  it  in  its  real  anguish  to  understand." 


"  I  AM  thankful  to  have  known  her,  and  to 
have  felt  her  beautiful  influence,  to  have  appre- 

70 


TESTIMONIALS 

ciated  her  nobility  and  loveliness,  although  I 
never  saw  her  as  often  as  I  should  have  loved 
to  have  seen  her.  She  will  always  be  a  beauti- 
ful and  abiding  memory." 


"  WE  have  been  for  so  many  years  accus- 
tomed to  see  your  mother's  beautiful  and  gra- 
cious presence  every  Sunday  that  her  death  seems 
a  personal  loss." 


"  WHAT  a  heritage,  to  have  had  such  a 
Mother.  She  will  live  in  her  children  who  can 
never  forget  her  kind  and  loving  acts  and  her 
beautiful  devotion  to  her  family." 


"  ABOVE  her  interest  in  our  history  will  al- 
ways stand  her  Christian  works." 


"  EARLY  in  my  girlhood  she  gladdened  my 
life  with  her  beauty,  brightness,  and  kindness, 
so  I  loved  her  dearly,  and  now  sympathize  with 
you  most  deeply  as  you  mourn  her  departure. 
May  we  all  meet  again  in  the  better  land  to  be 
with  our  Saviour." 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

"  INDEED  we  all  sorrow,  for  each  feels  he  has 
lost  a  friend.  West  Mt.  Mission  was  ever  helped 
by  her  always  ready  purse,  and  I  shall  ever  cher- 
ish her  gracious  friendship  toward  myself." 


"  You  have  been  signally  blessed  in  your  par- 
entage, for  a  more  pure  and  upright  father  and 
mother  does  not  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  generality 
of  men  and  women  in  these  times.  May  the 
memory  of  this  dear  lady  be  ever  precious  to  you, 
and  her  example  guide  you  all  in  the  journey  of 
life.  To  have  a  mother  in  Heaven  is  something 
to  be  happy  over,  even  though  your  earthly  loss 
seems  very  severe  and  hard  to  be  reconciled  to." 


"  YOUR  father  and  mother  will  always  stand 
in  my  memory  as  figures  shedding  good  influ- 
ence, for  I  never  looked  at  them  in  church  as  a 
young  girl  without  the  feeling  that  they  stood 
in  our  community  for  all  that  was  best.  I  am 
sure  their  memory  will  become  unceasingly  pre- 
cious to  their  children." 


"  BUT  the  comforting  thought,  that  she  has 
found  relief  from  all  her  pain,  and  has  joined 

72 


TESTIMONIALS 


the  blessed  throng  above,  will  lead  you  to  for- 
get your  grief  in  her  joy.  Heaven  will  be  a  re- 
ality to  you  now,  as  never  before.  I  know  that 
she  was  the  Queen  of  your  household,  and  the 
tie  that  has  bound  you  all  together." 


"  I  NEVER  had  the  honor  of  her  acquaintance, 
though  from  what  I  have  heard  and  from  what 
I  know,  I  am  sure  that  she  was  all  that  a  saintly 
and  devoted  mother  and  companion  could  be  to 
her  family  and  friends.  Death  has  touched  with 
his  hand  and  taken  away  a  loved  one  whom  it 
was  hard  to  give  up.  '  But,  O,  for  the  touch 
of  a  vanished  hand,  and  the  sound  of  a  voice 
that  is  still.'  Let  me  assure  you  of  my  profound 
sorrow  in  your  great  bereavement.  I  have  passed 
through  the  same  great  sorrow  and  grief.  We 
must  be  strong  and  brave,  for  in  a  little  while 
we  shall  surely  go  to  meet  our  loved  ones  who 
have  gone  before." 


"  To  no  one  outside  of  your  family  will  the 
death  of  Mrs.  Hatch  bring  deeper  sorrow  than 
to  me.  One  thought  is  ever  present  with  me — 
the  many  who  will  greet  your  Mother  at  the 
Golden  Gates,  as  the  means,  under  God,  of  bring- 

73 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

ing  them  to  the  knowledge  of  that  Saviour  whose 
blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  The  news  of  her 
death  will  bring  sorrow  to  many  in  distant  lands. 
'  Her  works  will  follow  her.'  To  your  family 
I  tend  the  assurance  of  my  deepest  sympathy  in 
your  great  sorrow." 


"  How  entirely  worthy  of  the  past  was  your 
mother's  long  and  noble  life,  and  what  a  heri- 
tage, in  the  wealth  of  her  character  she  leaves 
to  you.  I  feel  that  it  is  an  honor  to  have  known 
your  mother." 

"  I  AM  sending  these  few  flowers  to  your  be- 
loved Mother,  to  carry  to  her  my  sincere  sym- 
pathy for  her  in  her  illness,  and  many  earnest 
wishes  for  her  recovery.  It  has  always  been  an 
unusual  pleasure  to  see  and  talk  with  Mrs.  Hatch, 
and  I  have  often  had  a  feeling  of  true  satisfac- 
tion, that  so  very  near  me,  even  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wall,  lived  one  so  beautiful  in  life  and 
character.  May  I  also  send  you  my  true  sym- 
pathy, for  I  know  what  a  discipline  it  is  to  have  to 
watch  the  suffering  illness  of  a  beloved  Mother." 


"  DOCTOR  and  Mrs.  S wish  very  much 

to  express  their  sadness  in  the  loss  of  a  familiar 

74 


TESTIMONIALS 


and  gracious  presence,  and  their  sympathy  with 
a  household  that  has  to  learn  to  go  on  without 
its  central  care  and  blessing." 


"  You  may  be  counted  very  fortunate  to  have 
had  such  opportunities  to  do  so  much  for  your 
mother,  and  I  am  sure  that  her  greatest  legacy 
to  you  will  be  the  memory  of  her  sweet  face  and 
her  beautiful  life." 


"  I  AM  glad  that  your  dear  mother  has  slipped 
out  and  no  longer  is  restless  and  suffering;  but 
to  you  who  have  watched  the  ebbing  and  the 
pain,  and  now  feel  the  loss  of  the  mother,  I  can 
only  say  that  I  am  thinking  of  you  with  love." 


"  YOUR  mother  was  such  a  superior  and  lov- 
able woman  that  all  with  whom  she  came  in 
contact  were  won  to  her — first  in  admiration 
and  later  in  affection,  and  for  myself  I  feel  that 
I  have  lost  a  most  dear  and  valued  friend,  and 
mourn  that  we  shall  mingle  together  no  more 
in  our  accustomed  places.  To  those  who  knew 
her  best  and  loved  her  most,  her  loss  is  indeed 
beyond  expression,  and  my  heart  goes  out  to  you 

75 


REBECCA   TAYLOR   HATCH 

and  all  her  family  in  deepest  sympathy.  The 
courage  and  cheerfulness  with  which  she  bore 
her  failing  health  were  evidence  of  her  great 
faith  and  strong  character,  and  my  own  experi- 
ence has  been,  that  it  is  easier  to  part  with  those 
loved  ones  who  have  struggled  long,  when  we 
know  they  are  now  evermore  at  rest." 


"  No  one  could  know  Mrs.  Hatch,  ever  so 
slightly,  without  feeling  the  charm  of  her  pleas- 
antness and  goodness,  and  feeling  the  better  for 
having  known  her." 


"  DEEPLY  sympathizing  with  you,  I  am  fully 
persuaded  you  would  not  call  your  dear  mother 
back.  She  has  preceded  us  but  a  little  while. 
May  we,  when  we  are  summoned,  be  as  well 
prepared  as  she  was." 


"  THE  dear  mother  is  gone.  '  Many  make 
the  household,  only  the  mother  makes  the  home.' 
I  can  easily  imagine  the  darkness  and  chilliness 
of  the  shadow  that  has  come  over  your  house- 
hold, the  sadness  enters  mine.  /,  too,  feel  be- 
reaved and  all  alone  in  one  sense  in  the  Church 

76 


TESTIMONIALS 

so  dear  to  us  all,  having  outlived  all  the  seventy- 
one  enterprising,  clever  young  men  and  women 
who  formed  that  goodly  band,  now  we  believe 
beyond  all  earthly  care  in  the  Father's  house, 
no  more  to  sin  and  sorrow." 


"  YOUR  mother's  lovely  nature  and  beautiful 
life  will  in  time  be  a  great  consolation,  and  the 
fact  that  she  had  so  long  been  spared  to  you. 
May  God  have  you  in  his  care  and  keeping,  and 
temper  this  great  affliction  with  the  sense  of  his 
overshadowing  love." 


'  Friend  after  friend  departs, 
Who  hath  not  lost  a  friend  ? ' 

"I  AM  one  among  many  who  are  to-day 
thinking  of  your  lovely ,  honored  mother  who  has 
taken  her  last  look  upon  those  whom  in  her  life 
she  loved,  and  whose  devoted  affection  was  man- 
ifested to  the  end.  The  memories  that  crowd 
upon  me  are  sweet  as  I  bring  the  events  of  our 
mutual  lives  in  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  and 
in  society,  when  she  and  your  dear  father  were 
in  the  foreground  of  everything  good  and  beau- 
tiful. Be  assured,  my  dear  friend,  of  my  sincere 
sympathy  in  this  your  second  great  sorrow.  My 

77 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

own  heart  grieves  with  yours,  but  we  may  both 
be  comforted  by  the  reflection  that  God  has  called 
her  when  the  duties  on  earth  were  finished,  and 
she  was  ready  for  her  final  rest  in  Heaven.  And 
we  are  also  comforted  in  the  thought  that  the 
'  Gates  are  ajar,'  and  those  of  her  friends  and  dear 
ones  in  her  own  family,  will,  in  the  Father's  own 
time  and  way,  find  the  door  and  enter  in  to  be 
'  forever  with  the  Lord.'  " 


"  MY  heart  is  so  sorrowful  and  filled  with 
deepest  sympathy  for  you  all,  it  is  difficult  to  put 
it  into  words,  and  what  do  they  avail ;  but  I 
must  stretch  out  my  hand  and  try  to  tell  you  how 
sincerely  we  mourn  the  loss  of  your  dear  and 
saintly  mother,  and  oh,  how  sadly  we  realize 
what  it  is  to  her  family.  If  to  us  she  was  a  most 
admirable  Christian  character,  with  an  unusually 
lovable  personality,  what  must  she  have  been  to 
those,  whose  hearts  were  knitted  to  hers  by  the 
tenderest  ties  of  our  nature,  and  strengthened  by 
years  of  innumerable  acts  of  devoted  love.  May 
He  who  has  called  her  pure  spirit  from  Earth,  yet 
*  does  not  afflict  willingly,'  give  you  all  abund- 
antly of  His  priceless  comfort,  and  help  you  to 
think  of  her  at  rest  with  her  Saviour,  in  whom 
she  so  devotedly  trusted,  and  the  loved  ones  '  gone 
before.'  " 

7* 


TESTIMONIALS 

"  YOUR  Mother  has  left  to  her  children  the 
memory  of  an  unselfish  life,  beautiful  in  its  ab- 
solute devotion  to  those  she  loved.  She  is  now 
at  rest  and  at  peace.  Do  not  wish  her  back  to 
this  world  of  care  and  sorrow.  I  too  have  passed 
through  the  deep  waters,  but  I  know  that  God 
helps  and  comforts  those  who  trust  him.  My 
Mother  is  in  heaven  and  Christ  leads  her  by  the 
hand.  I  am  here  and  Christ  leads  me  by  the 
hand,  so  there's  only  Christ  between  us." 


FUNERAL  SERVICES 


THE  FUNERAL  OF  MRS.  WALTER  TILDEN 
HATCH  TOOK  PLACE  ON  TUESDAY  AF- 
TERNOON, DECEMBER  13,  1904,  AT  THE 
CHURCH  OF  THE  PILGRIMS,  BROOKLYN,  N.Y. 


THE  half  light  that  entered  through  the 
stained  glass  windows  of  the  church,  and 
the  solemn  notes  of  the  chanting  of  the 
choir  were  fitting  accompaniments  for  the  fu- 
neral  procession.     This  was   preceded    by    the 
pastor  of  the  church  ;  behind  him  walked  the 
pall-bearers : 

REV.  FRANK  K.  SANDERS,  D.D., 
Dean  of  the  Yale  Theological  Seminary, 
THOMAS  E.  STILLMAN, 
JOSEPH  E.  BROWN, 
GEORGE  P.  STOCKWELL, 
A.  A.  Low, 
WILLIAM  A.  READ, 
JAMES  M.  MONTGOMERY,  and 
CYRUS  B.  DAVENPORT. 


T 


ORDER   OF  SERVICE 

HE  funeral  services  were  conducted  by 
the  Rev.  H.  P.  Dewey,  D.D.,  pastor 
of  the  church,  and  were  as  follows : 


OPENING  SENTENCE 
By  the  Pastor 

"  I  AM  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  saith 
the  Lord.  He  that  believeth  in  Me,  though 
he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live :  and  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall  never  die." 

CHANT 
By  the  Choir 

BLESSED  are  the  dead,  who  die  in  the  Lord  from 

henceforth ; 

Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from 
their  labors,  and  their  works  do  follow 
them. 

83 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

OUR  days  on  earth  are  as   a  shadow,  and  there 

is  none  abiding  ; 

We  are  but  of  yesterday  ;  there  is  but  a  step 
between  us  and  death. 

MAN'S  days  are  as  grass;   as  a  flower  of  the  field 

so  he  flourisheth ; 

He  appeareth  for  a  little  time,  then  vanisheth 
away. 

WATCH  :  for  ye  know  not  what  hour  your  Lord 

doth  come ; 

Be  ye  also  ready ;  for  in  such  an  hour  as  ye 
think  not,  the  Son  of  Man  cometh. 

IT  is  the  Lord ;  let  Him  do  what  seemeth  Him 

good; 

The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken 
away,  and  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

BLESSED  are  the  dead,  who  die  in  the  Lord  from 

henceforth ; 

Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from 
their  labors,  and  their  works  do  follow 
them. 

INVOCATION 

FATHER  of  light,  with  whom  is  no  varia- 
bleness neither  shadow  of  turning  ;  illuminate 
our  minds,  that  we  may  know  Thy  truth;  touch 


FUNERAL   SERVICE 

our  hearts,  that  we  may  feel  Thy  love ;  bring 
our  wills  into  subjection  to  Thy  leading,  that 
we  may  have  the  peace  which  passeth  under- 
standing :  through  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

RESPONSE 
By  the  Choir 

BLEST  are  the  departed  who  in  the  Lord  are 
sleeping,  from  henceforth  evermore. 

HYMN 

ROCK  of  ages,  cleft  for  me, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  Thy  side,  a  healing  flood, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure, 

Save  from  wrath,  and  make  me  pure. 

Should  my  tears  forever  flow, 
Should  my  zeal  no  languor  know, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone, 
Thou  must  save,  and  Thou  alone 
In  my  hand  no  price  I  bring, 
Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling. 

While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  mine  eyelids  close  in  death, 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And  behold  Thee  on  Thy  throne, 
Rock  of  ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee. 

SELECTIONS  FROM  SCRIPTURE 

LORD,  make  me  to  know  mine  end,  and  the 
measure  of  my  days,  what  it  is  ;  let  me  know 
how  frail  I  am. 

Behold,  thou  hast  made  my  days  as  hand- 
breadths  ;  and  mine  age  is  as  nothing  before 
Thee. 

We  bring  our  years  to  an  end,  as  a  tale  that 
is  told.  The  days  of  our  years  are  threescore 
years  and  ten  :  or  even  by  reason  of  strength 
fourscore  years;  yet  is  their  pride  but  labor 
and  sorrow ;  for  it  is  soon  gone,  and  we  fly 
away. 

But  thou  shalt  go  to  thy  fathers  in  peace ; 
thou  shalt  be  buried  in  a  good  old  age. 

Cast  me  not  off  in  the  time  of  old  age ;  for- 
sake me  not  when  my  strength  faileth.  O  God  ! 
be  not  far  from  me :  O  my  God,  make  haste  to 
help  me. 

Yea,  even  when  I  am  old  and  gray-headed, 
O  God,  forsake  me  not,  until  I  have  declared 
Thy  strength  unto  the  next  generation. 

And  even  to  old  age  I  am  He,  and  even  to 

86 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 


hoar  hairs  will  I  carry  you  ;  I  have  made,  and  I 
will  bear  ;  yea,  I  will  carry,  and  will  deliver. 


SHE  girdeth  her  loins  with  strength,  and 
maketh  strong  her  arms. 

She  spreadeth  out  her  hands  to  the  poor ; 
yea,  she  reacheth  forth  her  hands  to  the  needy. 

Her  clothing  is  fine  linen  and  purple.  Her 
husband  is  known  in  the  gates,  when  he  sitteth 
among  the  elders  of  the  land. 

Strength  and  dignity  are  her  clothing ;  and 
she  laugheth  at  the  time  to  come. 

She  openeth  her  mouth  with  wisdom  ;  and 
the  law  of  kindness  is  on  her  tongue. 

She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  house- 
hold, her  children  rise  up  and  call  her  blessed  ; 
her  husband  also,  and  he  praiseth  her. 

Give  her  of  the  fruit  of  her  hands,  and  let 
her  works  praise  her  in  the  gates. 


HE  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the 
Most  High,  shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Almighty. 

I  will  say  of  the  Lord,  He  is  my  refuge  and 
my  fortress;  my  God,  in  whom  I  trust. 

He  shall  cover  Thee  with  His  pinions,  and 
87 


REBECCA  TAYLOR   HATCH 

under  His  wings  shalt  thou   take  refuge ;    His 
truth  is  a  shield  and  a  buckler. 

In  all  their  affliction  He  was  afflicted,  and 
the  Angel  of  His  presence  saved  them;  in 
His  love  and  His  pity  He  redeemed  them; 
and  He  bare  them,  and  carried  them  all  the 
days  of  old. 


LET  not  your  heart  be  troubled ;  ye  believe 
in  God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions  ;  if  it  were  not  so,  I 
would  have  told  you ;  for  I  go  to  prepare  a 
place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and  prepare  a  place 
for  you,  I  come  again,  and  will  receive  you  un- 
to myself;  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also. 

And  I  will  pray  the  Father,  and  He  shall 
give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he  may  be 
with  you  forever,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth. 


LET  your  loins  be  girded  about,  and  your 
lamps  burning ;  and  be  yourselves  like  unto  men 
looking  for  their  Lord,  when  he  shall  return 
from  the  marriage  feast ;  that  when  he  cometh 
and  knocketh,  they  may  straightway  open  unto 
him. 


88 


FUNERAL   SERVICE 

AFTER  these  things  I  saw,  and  behold,  a  great 
multitude,  which  no  man  could  number,  out  of 
every  nation,  and  of  all  tribes,  and  peoples  and 
tongues,  standing  before  the  throne,  and  before 
the  Lamb,  arrayed  in  white  robes,  and  palms  in 
their  hands.  And  they  cry  with  a  great  voice, 
saying,  Salvation  unto  our  God  which  sitteth  on 
the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb. 

And  one  of  the  elders  answered,  saying  unto 
me,  These  which  are  arrayed  in  the  white  robes, 
who  are  they,  and  whence  came  they  ?  And  I 
say  unto  him,  My  Lord,  Thou  knowest.  And 
He  said  to  me,  These  are  they  which  have  come 
out  of  great  tribulation,  and  they  washed  their 
robes,  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb. 

They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst 
any  more ;  neither  shall  the  sun  strike  upon 
them,  nor  any  heat:  for  the  Lamb  which  is  in 
the  midst  of  the  throne,  shall  be  their  Shepherd, 
and  shall  guide  them  unto  fountains  of  waters  of 
life :  and  God  shall  wipe  away  every  tear  from 
their  eyes. 

And  death  shall  be  no  more,  neither  shall 
there  be  mourning,  nor  crying,  nor  pain,  any 
more :  the  first  things  are  passed  away. 

And  His  servants  shall  do  Him  service ;  and 
they  shall  see  His  face ;  and  His  name  shall  be 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

on  their  foreheads.  And  there  shall  be  night 
no  more ;  and  they  need  no  light  of  lamp,  neither 
light  of  sun,  for  the  Lord  God  shall  give  them 
light :  and  they  shall  reign  forever  and  forever. 
And  He  said  unto  me,  These  words  are 
faithful  and  true. 

SOLO  (Baritone}. 

"CALVARY." 

THE  pilgrims  throng  thro'  the  city  gates 
While  the  night  is  falling  fast ; 
They  go  to  watch  on  Calv'ry's  hill 
Ere  the  twilight  hours  are  past ; 

Though  dark  be  the  way,  with  eyes  of  faith 

They  gaze  on  His  Cross  above ; 

And,  lo  !  from  each  heart  the  shadows  depart, 

As  they  list  to  His  words  of  love, 

As  they  list  to  His  words  of  love. 

Rest,  rest  to  the  weary, 
Peace,  peace  to  the  soul ; 
Though  life  may  be  dreary, 
Earth  is  not  thy  goal — 

O  lay  down  thy  burden, 

0  come  unto  Me, — 

1  will  not  forsake  thee, 
I  will  not  forsake  thee, 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 

I  will  not  forsake  thee, 
Though  all  else  should  flee. 

Far,  far  away,  o'er  the  dream  of  years 
They  hear  the  voice  of  the  King. 
Where,  O  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory, 
And  where,  O  Death,  is  thy  sting  ? 

Captive  He  leads  them  for  evermore, 
While  weary  pilgrims  rejoice; 
For  looking  on  high  to  the  Cross  He  bore, 
The  faithful  shall  hear  His  Voice. 

Rest,  rest  to  the  weary, 
Peace,  peace  to  the  soul ; 
Though  life  may  be  dreary, 
Earth  is  not  thy  goal — 

O  lay  down  thy  burden, 

0  come  unto  Me, 

1  will  not  forsake  thee, 
Though  all  else  should  flee. 


ADDRESS 
By  the  Pastor 

WHEN  we  have  resided  a  long  time  in   a 
community  such   as  this,  and  especially  if  the 

9» 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

stay  has  been  broken  by  occasional  and  pro- 
tracted absences,  we  are  often  constrained,  while 
in  a  reflective  mood,  to  remark  upon  the  indica- 
tions of  change.  We  see  those  signs  in  the 
architectural  transformations.  We  see  them  in 
altered  habits  and  customs  and  standards.  We 
see  them  most  strikingly  in  the  presence  of 
strangers,  who  have  come  to  live  in  the  houses 
where  once  we  knew  and  claimed  friends  and 
companions.  These  observations  are  very  likely 
to  provoke  a  mood  of  depression  ;  to  make  us 
feel  that  all  the  dear  objects  of  human  interest 
are  slowly  but  surely  slipping  from  the  grasp 
"with  thoughtless  drift  of  the  deciduous  years," 
and  that  the  ties  which  bind  the  present  to  the 
cherished  past  are  being  hopelessly  severed. 

But  again  we  are  lifted  from  our  depression  ; 
for,  amid  the  indications  of  change,  we  detect 
also  the  marks  of  permanence.  By  the  side  of 
the  more  modern,  pretentious  structure  is  the 
old  building,  wearing  the  same  look  it  has  al- 
ways assumed.  Along  with  the  customs  and 
habits  and  standards  more  recently  established 
are  some  of  the  old  customs,  the  old  habits,  the 
old  standards,  honored  by  us  and  by  our  fathers 
before  us,  still  in  vogue.  And  while  there  are 
faces  that  are  strange,  there  are  faces,  also,  that 
are  familiar — faces  of  those  who  share  with  us 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 

in  memories  and  associations  which  stretch  far 
back  into  the  years  that  are  gone.  Yes,  and 
now  and  then,  among  that  blessed  number,  is  a 
friend  who  seems  to  be  a  link  with  the  past,  by 
being  in  himself  or  herself  the  embodiment  of 
what  was  best  and  most  treasured  in  the  former 
time,  and  expressing  it  now  in  the  newer  con- 
ditions; like  a  scribe  instructed  unto  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven,  who  takes  out  of  his  treasures 
things  new  and  old  ;  like  a  tree,  which  carries 
up  all  that  is  most  essential  in  its  roots  into  other 
forms — into  the  trunk,  into  the  branches,  into 
the  furthermost  trembling  leaf. 

Such  a  one,  I  think,  is  she  who  is  the  ob- 
ject of  our  affection  and  esteem  in  this  funeral 
hour.  She  had  length  of  days.  Sixteen  times 
over  and  above  the  Scriptural  allotment  a 
twelfthmonth  had  been  given  her.  She  recalled 
a  time  that  had  become  history  when  many  of 
us  who  are  here  to-day  first  saw  the  light ;  and 
she  was  very  fond  of  recurring  to  that  earlier 
period — to  the  rich,  effulgent  experience  of 
childhood  and  youth.  With  enthusiasm  and 
zest  she  would  relate  the  incidents  of  that  far-off 
time,  until  it  became  exceedingly  vivid  and  real, 
and  we  could  almost  fancy  that  we  were  borne 
back  to  it  in  person,  and  were  living  the  scenes 
over  again  with  her.  Yet  now  and  then,  as  we 

93 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

listened,  we  were  lifted  out  of  the  story  and 
were  constrained  to  think  of  the  narrator,  and 
then  it  seemed  that  she  was  not  so  much  con- 
veying us  back  to  the  past  as  bringing  the  past 
forward  to  us  ;  for,  in  her  unique  and  charming 
personality,  in  her  ideals  of  faith  and  duty  and 
life,  she  was  the  personification  of  what  was  best 
in  the  olden  time,  preserving  and  expressing  it 
under  the  present-day  conditions.  I  think  we 
may  say  that  there  have  been  few  finer  examples 
of  the  true  Puritan  womanhood.  She  came  of 
a  rare  ancestry,  of  a  parentage  that  stood  for  high 
thinking  upon  the  highest  themes,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  for  simple  refinement  of  living.  She 
was  reared  in  a  home  and  amid  social  surround- 
ings wherein  the  chief  aim  was  the  quest  for 
truth  and  it  was  never  forgotten  that  education 
means  that  the  beginning  of  wisdom  is  the  fear 
of  the  Lord.  She  took  the  spirit,  nourished  and 
cultivated  within  the  academic  and  tneologic 
environment,  and  brought  it  to  the  more  com- 
plex life  of  the  metropolis.  There  it  never  lost 
its  original  quality,  and  dominant  in  it,  always, 
was  the  accent  of  the  New  England  conscience. 
She  had  in  full  measure  the  pride  of  blood. 
If  ever  child  revered  a  father,  she  revered  her 
father.  He  was  a  distinguished  man  at  a  time 
when  theological  controversies  were  sharp  and 

94 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 

intense,  and  she  seemed  to  be  imbued  with  his 
spirit  and  purpose.  He  once  said  to  her  (a  state- 
ment which  she  was  fond  of  recalling),  "  If  you 
had  been  a  son,  you  not  only  would  have  ap- 
preciated my  theology,  but  would  have  defended 
it."  Her  great-grandfather  was  both  theologian 
and  soldier.  When  the  call  came  to  arms  against 
the  French  and  Indians,  he  donned  the  uniform 
of  a  chaplain,  and  she  greatly  cherished  a  pow- 
der-horn which  this  valorous  sire  had  carried 
at  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point.  Perhaps 
the  militant  ancestry  accounts  a  little  for  the 
independence  of  thought  which  she  exhibited 
at  times,  and  for  her  readiness  and  courage  in 
accepting  the  path  of  appointed  duty  when 
it  was  made  plain  to  her.  But  blended  with 
this  pride  of  blood  was  a  singular  humility  and 
self-depreciation ;  and  along  with  this  spirit  of 
independence  was  the  spirit  of  sweet  depend- 
ence upon  those  nearest  to  her,  upon  whom  she 
ever  wished  to  lean. 

She  had  an  alert,  well-furnished  mind ;  and 
the  glow  of  the  mental  was  intensified  by  the 
fires  of  generosity  and  love.  By  grace  of  person, 
by  beauty  and  strength  of  character,  she  was  in 
truth,  as  one  has  said  of  her,  the  gentlewoman ; 
and  not  only  of  the  old  school,  but  also  of  the 
new  school.  By  the  heritage  of  birth,  by  her 

95 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

social  connections,  she  took  enviable  position  in 
the  selected  circles  ;  but  those  who  came  to 
know  her  understood  that  her  best  credential 
was  in  herself. 

One  place  she  loved  above  all  others — the 
home.  She  was  a  faithful  wife  to  a  devoted 
and  honored  husband  ;  she  was  a  faithful  mother 
to  children  and  grandchildren,  over  whom  she 
spread  the  wings  of  her  tender  care,  and  they 
rise  up  to-day  and  call  her  blessed. 

Next  to  the  home  in  her  affection  was  this 
place.  She  loved  the  house  of  the  Lord's  abode ; 
its  very  building,  its  memorials  and  emblems, 
its  ceremonies,  all  its  ordinances  and  works, 
were  to  her  the  dearly  cherished  expression  of 
the  faith  to  which  she  was  born. 

She  had  the  missionary  spirit ;  and  we  shall 
always  remember  the  munificence  with  which 
she  stretched  out  her  hands  to  the  Foreign  Sun- 
day-School Association,  and  so  dispensed  her 
gifts  in  literature  that  went  far  and  wide  telling 
the  simple  story  of  the  cross.  It  seems  strange 
that  just  as  we  are  about  to  celebrate  the  Sixtieth 
Anniversary  of  the  founding  of  this  Church  she 
should  slip  away  from  us — she  who  in  these  later 
days  was  one  of  the  three  survivors  of  the  orig- 
inal group  of  members.  But  we  remember  that 
the  pillar  in  the  House  of  God  goeth  no  more 

96 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 

» 

out ;  and  therefore,  when  we  celebrate,  we  shall 
believe  that  she  is  still  in  our  communion,  a  min- 
istering spirit  sent  to  minister  to  us  who  also 
would  be  heirs  of  salvation. 

She  believed  in  the  goodness  of  God.  Per- 
haps she  inherited  her  conception  of  the  Divine 
One  in  some  measure  from  her  father ;  for  we 
remember  that  when  there  was  a  certain  school 
of  thought  which  declared  that  a  man  ought  to 
be  willing  to  be  damned  for  the  glory  of  God, 
Nathaniel  Taylor  stood  up  in  earnest  protest, 
and  argued  that  one  never  could  be  resigned  to 
the  glory  of  God  if  the  resignation  involved 
one's  own  destruction. 

She  believed  in  the  goodness  of  God,  and 
that  the  goodness  of  God  is  our  salvation.  Fre- 
quently during  her  illness  she  repeated  the  verse, 
"The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  His  Son  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin  "  ;  and  when  one  of  the  family  said 
to  her,  "  You  always  knew  that,  did  you  not  ? " 
she  replied,  "  Yes,  but  I  know  it  now  as  I  never 
knew  it  before." 

She  lived  a  long  time,  but  the  taint  of  age 
was  not  upon  her  spirit.  She  kept  the  dews  of 
her  youth  until  the  last.  When  eventide  came, 
the  sky  was  radiant  with  hues  of  the  dawn 
presaging  the  perfect  day.  The  beauty  of 
the  autumn  leaf,  turning  not  to  russet,  but 

97 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

to  red  and  gold,  was  the  harbinger  of  the  eter- 
nal spring. 

In  a  little  book  which  she  treasured  there 
was  found  between  the  leaves  the  following 
poem.  The  gracious  spirit  which  it  portrays 
she  beautifully  exhibited  as  the  years  of  her  pil- 
grimage unfolded  : 

SOFTLY,  oh  softly,  the  years  have  swept  by  thee, 
Touching  thee  lightly  with  tenderest  care ; 

Sorrow  and  death  they  have  often  brought  nigh 

thee, 
Yet  they  have  left  thee  but  beauty  to  wear — 

Growing  old  gracefully, 
Gracefully  fair. 

Far  from  the  storms  that  are  lashing  the  ocean, 
Nearer  each  day  to  the  pleasant  home  life  ; 

Far  from  the  waves  that  are  big  with  commotion, 
Under  full  sail  and  the  harbor  in  sight — 

Growing  old  gracefully, 
Cheerful  and  bright. 

Past  all  the  winds  that  were  adverse  and  chilling, 
Past  all  the  islands  that  lured  thee  to  rest, 

Past  all  the  currents  that  lured  thee,  unwilling, 
Far  from  thy  course  to  the  land  of  the  blest — 

Growing  old  gracefully, 
Peaceful  and  blest. 


FUNERAL   SERVICE 

Never  a  feeling  of  envy  or  sorrow, 

When  the  bright  faces  of  children  are  seen ; 

Never  a  year  from  the  young  wouldst  thou  bor- 
row— 
Thou  dost  remember  what  lieth  between — 

Growing  old  willingly, 
Thankful,  serene. 

Rich  in  experience  that  angels  might  covet, 
Rich   in   a  faith  that   hath   grown  with  the 
years ; 

Rich  in  a  love  that  grew  from  and  above  it, 
Soothing  thy  sorrows  and  hushing  thy  fears — 

Growing  old  wealthily, 
Loving  and  dear. 

Hearts  at  the  sound  of  thy  coming  are  lightened, 
Ready  and  willing  thy  hand  to  relieve ; 

Many  a  face  at  thy  kind  word  hath  brightened, 
"  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  receive— 

Growing  old  happily, 
Ceasing  to  grieve. 

Eyes  that  grow  dim  to  earth  and  its  glory 
Have  a  sweet  radiance  youth  cannot  know  ; 

Ears  that  grow  dull  to  the  world  and  its  story, 
Drink  in  the  songs  that  from  Paradise  flow — 

Growing  old  graciously, 
Purer  than  snow. 


99 


REBECCA  TAYLOR  HATCH 
HYMN 

LEAD,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ! 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  Thou  me  on ! 

Keep  Thou  my  feet !      I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;   one  step  enough  for  me. 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  Thou 

Shouldst  lead  me  on ; 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path  ;    but  now 

Lead  Thou  me  on ! 

I  loved  the  garish  day  ;  and,  spite  of  fears, 
Pride  ruled  my  will;   remember  not  past  years. 

So  long  Thy  power  has  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone  ; 

And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile, 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile. 

PRAYER 

O  GOD,  Who  dwellest  in  the  light,  with  Whom 
there  is  no  darkness  at  all,  Who  peerest  into  the 
deep  and  secret  things  and  seest  the  end  from  the 
beginning,  we  thank  Thee  that  whatsoever  con- 


FUNERAL  SERVICE 

fuses  and  perplexes  us  is  entirely  plain  to  Thee. 
We  came  into  this  world  and  Thou  didst  appoint 
our  coming :  all  along  the  winding  way  we  have 
been  attended  by  Thy  providence;  when  the 
summons  comes  for  us  to  go  hence,  it  is  by  Thy 
will  that  we  depart ;  and  leaving  this  world  we 
go  unto  Thee.  In  this  hour,  as  we  realize  that 
though  our  life  be  long  upon  the  earth,  it  is  yet 
swifter  than  the  post  or  the  weaver's  shuttle ;  as 
we  feel  the  instability  and  transitoriness  of  all 
things  human,  help  us,  O  God,  to  lay  hold  upon 
Thee.  Help  us  to  grasp  those  eternal  things 
which  abide  in  this  world  and  in  the  next. 
Grant  unto  us  the  faith  which  is  the  evidence 
of  things  not  seen  and  the  substance  of  things 
hoped  for ;  the  faith  which  shall  enable  us, 
whether  we  walk  on  rocky  steeps  or  in  shaded 
valleys,  whether  we  be  in  the  sunshine  or  in 
the  darkness,  to  rest  implicitly  in  Thee.  Grant 
unto  us  the  love  which  is  the  bond  of  perfect- 
ness,  which  makes  our  lives  sweet  and  sancti- 
fies every  experience,  be  it  of  pain  or  of  pleas- 
ure, when  shining  through  it  is  the  love  of 
our  God,  and  without  which  life  is  bitterness. 
Grant  us  hope,  that  we  may  never  be  discour- 
aged ;  that  we  may  turn  to  the  future  with  an  un- 
daunted heart ;  that  we  may  believe  that  there  is 
more  good  in  the  days  to  come,  if  we  will  only 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

seek  for  it,  than  we  have  ever  received  ;  a  hope 
which  shall  be  an  anchor  of  the  soul  to  us,  and 
which  shall  penetrate  into  that  which  is  beyond 
the  veil.  We  thank  Thee,  our  God,  for  the 
life  of  Thy  servant — for  its  sweetness,  for  its 
strength.  We  thank  thee  that  she  lived  so  long 
and  lived  so  well.  But  Thou  knowest,  O  God, 
that,  though  we  recognize  the  naturalness  of 
death  when  the  shock  of  corn  is  ripened  in  its 
season,  we  cannot  part  from  our  beloved  one 
and  not  be  left  sad  and  desolate.  Therefore,  we 
implore  Thee,  give  Thy  rich  consolations  to 
these  mourning  ones  ;  enter  thou  into  the  circle 
of  this  family  bereaved,  and  bind  up  the  broken 
hearts  and  comfort  those  that  mourn.  Draw  nigh 
to  them  through  the  sweet  and  sacred  memory ; 
draw  nigh  to  them  through  human  sympathy  ex- 
tended by  friends  and  neighbors  and  make  it  seem 
to  them  as  a  witness  of  the  compassion  of  God. 
Draw  nigh  to  them  by  Thy  more  immediate 
presence ;  enter  into  the  secret  place  of  grief, 
where  no  friend,  however  near  and  dear,  may 
come,  and  fill  up  the  loneliness  with  Thy  pres- 
ence. Help  the  members  of  this  family  to  in- 
terpret, one  unto  another,  the  sorrow  which 
they  share. 

Bestow  Thy  blessing  upon  this  church  which 
Thy  servant  loved,  and  may  the  influence  of  her 


FUNERAL   SERVICE 

life  bring  forth  fruit  in  this  vineyard  of  God  for 
many  days  to  come. 

Let  Thy  blessing  be  upon  these  friends  and 
neighbors.  Sanctify  unto  them  the  memories 
and  associations  of  the  years  ;  and,  looking  into 
others'  sorrows,  as  we  see  reflected  our  own 
troubles,  may  we  retreat  into  Thy  secret  place 
and  rest  more  completely  in  Thy  love  and  power. 
By  all  the  discipline  of  life  show  us,  O  God, 
how  the  unseen  things  are  the  real  things,  and 
help  us  to  lay  up  our  treasures  in  heaven ;  help 
us  to  bear  one  another's  burdens  and  to  rejoice 
in  one  another's  joys,  and  so  to  fulfil  the  law  of 
Christ. 

Transfigure  our  crosses;  shed  light  upon 
sorrow  ;  convert  loss  into  gain ;  make  Thy  power 
perfect  in  our  weakness ;  and  may  we  live  so  in 
Thy  company  that  when,  at  last,  the  word  comes 
to  us  to  leave  our  joys  and  labors  here  the  tran- 
sition may  be  nothing  strange  to  us,  but  simply 
the  fulfilment  and  completion  of  the  life  we  have 
been  living.  Serenely  and  calmly  and  trustfully 
may  we  be  able  to  say,  with  the  Master,  "  Father, 
into  Thy  hands  I  commend  my  Spirit." 

And  may  the  Grace  of  our  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour Jesus  Christ,  and  the  love  of  God,  and 
the  communion  and  fellowship  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  be  and  remain  with  us  evermore. 

103 


REBECCA  TAYLOR  HATCH 

RESPONSE 
BY  THE  CHOIR 

AMEN,  AMEN,  AMEN. 

As  the  procession  passed  out  of  the  church, 
the  following  hymn  was  sung  : 
O  PARADISE,  O  Paradise, 
Who  doth  not  crave  for  rest  ? 
Who  would  not  seek  the  happy  land 
Where  they  that  loved  are  blest ; 
Where  loyal  hearts  and  true, 
Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture,  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight  ? 

O  Paradise,  O  Paradise, 

The  world  is  growing  old  ; 

Who  would  not  be  at  rest  and  free 

Where  love  is  never  cold  ? 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true, 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 

All  rapture,  through  and  through, 

In  God's  most  holy  sight  ? 

O  Paradise,  O  Paradise, 
We  long  to  sin  no  more  ; 
We  long  to  be  as  pure  on  earth 
As  on  thy  spotless  shore  ; 

104 


FUNERAL   SERVICE 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true, 
Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture,  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

O  Paradise,  O  Paradise, 

We  shall  not  wait  for  long ; 

E'en  now  the  loving  ear  may  catch 

Faint  fragments  of  thy  song  ; 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true, 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 

All  rapture,  through  and  through, 

In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

Lord  Jesus,  King  of  Paradise, 

Oh,  keep  us  in  Thy  love, 

And  guide  us  to  that  happy  land 

Of  perfect  rest  above  ; 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true, 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 

All  rapture,  through  and  through, 

In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

All  that  was  mortal  of  the  beloved  Mother 
was  taken  to  the  beautiful  slope  at  Greenwood, 
and  by  the  hand  of  affection  laid  tenderly  in  its 
final  home. 

The  snow  had  fallen  steadily  during  the 
105 


REBECCA  TAYLOR    HATCH 

previous  night,  and  the  heavens  were  overcast, 
but  at  noon  the  sky  cleared.  When  the  ceme- 
tery was  reached,  the  sun  was  casting  a  golden 
glow  over  the  snow-mantled  earth.  It  was  a 
fitting  symbol  of  the  brightness  and  glory  already 
revealed  to  her. 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 

THE   following    remarks  were    made   by 
Joseph  E.  Brown  at  the  mid-week  ser- 
vice held  in  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims 
on    March  8,    1905,    three    months    after    the 
death  of  Mrs.  Hatch  : 

"  As  I  sit  at  my  library  window,  I  look  out 
upon  the  '  House  opposite,'  from  which  the  cen- 
tre and  light  of  its  home  has  been  taken. 

"  Never  more  shall  our  mortal  eyes  look 
upon  that  queenly  and  gracious  presence !  Never 
more  in  the  home,  the  social  circle,  the  church, 
shall  we  receive  that  greeting  from  her  which 
was  always  welcome  because  it  was  genuine, 
cordial,  kindly,  and  to  many  of  us  affectionate. 
Lift  up  the  heart,  for  we  shall  meet  again  ! 

"  Mrs.  Hatch  was  the  last,  save  one,  of  that 
valiant  band  who  in  1844  laid  the  foundation  of 
this  Church  of  the  Pilgrims.  Her  labors  of  love 

109 


REBECCA   TAYLOR    HATCH 

in  the  Lord  should  ever  be  borne  in  grateful 
remembrance  by  this  people.  For  more  than 
sixty  years  she  has  been  a  power  that  worked 
for  righteousness  in  our  midst.  How  faithfully 
she  served  her  God,  her  day  and  her  generation, 
we  can  all  testify.  As  a  disciple  of  the  Master, 
as  a  mother  and  as  friend  she  witnessed  a  good 
confession. 

"All  that  the  ministrations  of  love  and  mate- 
rial resource  could  supply  were  laid  at  her  feet. 
Yet  again  and  again  was  she  called  upon  to 
drink  of  the  cup  of  sorrow — of  the  waters  of 
Marah — and  full  well  she  knew  the  bitterness 
thereof. 

"  These  trials  did  not  weaken  her  faith  in 
God,  nor  did  they  embitter  her  life ;  her  faith 
had  more  of  humility — her  life  a  more  chas- 
tened sweetness.  Restricted  from  many  forms 
of  Christian  activity  by  the  limitations  of  her 
health,  she  was  enabled  by  her  translations  into 
many  tongues  of  simple  stories  of  the  power  of 
God's  love  to  men,  to  carry  on  that  singularly 
beautiful  undertaking  of  scattering  among  the 
peoples  who  sit  in  darkness  the  light  of  the 
gospel. 

"  And  so  we  bring  the  offering  of  flowers  to 
lay  upon  her  casket — roses,  to  tell  of  a  life  fra- 
grant with  good  works,  and  of  a  memory  which 

no 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 

shall  outlive  their  transient  bloom  ;  the  palm, 
of  her  victory  ;  violets,  emblem  expressing  our 
grief  at  our  loss,  which  is  her  gain. 

"To  those  in  this  church  militant  who  are 
advanced  in  years  these  losses  which  the  arch 
enemy  has  made  in  our  ranks  come  with  start- 
ling significance.  We  stand,  as  it  were,  in  the 
van  of  the  army — upon  the  firing  line  ;  and  with 
tearful  eyes  and  with  anxious  hearts  we  look 
about  for  those  who  will  fill  these  vacant  places. 

"  In  the  day  of  battle,  when  in  close  order  the 
battalions  move  upon  the  enemy,  as  one  and 
another  falls  in  the  line,  the  command  comes 
from  the  Leader,  in  tones  strong  but  grave, 
'  Close  up !  Close  up  !  Close  up,  ye  people,' 
till  shoulder  touches  shoulder,  hands  touch 
hands,  till  hearts  beat  in  the  unison  of  a  com- 
mon determination  as  we  move  forward,  to  the 
end  that  the  standard  which  these  departed 
ones  upheld  so  long  and  so  well  may  not  be 
lowered  before  our  enemies." 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY   OF  CALIFORNIA 
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